Four; Gather

It was a sunny day at El Matador Beach, and a young couple was enjoying a romantic picnic together. The girl, about 20, laughed at a joke the man had said. They looked into each other's eyes.
"This has been a great day," the girl said. "It's really nice out here."
"Yeah," the man said. "Just me, you, and the-"
Suddenly, Alan, dressed up in his vigilante mask, with Akro Tirio around his shoulders, fell to the ground, landing between them on the picnic blanket.
"Oh my god!" the girl shrieked.
"What the fuck!?" the man said.
"Ow!" Alan said, sitting up. "Damn it. Um, sorry for ruining your whatever..."
The ground shook with the sound of something very large stomping toward them. The couple looked into the distance and saw what appeared to be a man approaching them. But as it got closer, it began to look less like a man and more like a giant stone golem. It grew larger and larger as it approached. It was at least 30 feet tall, with jewels embedded in its body, and a pair of stone tentacles sprouting from its back.
"Holy shit!" the man gasped.
"You two might wanna run," Alan said, as he stood up and wiped some peach cobbler off of Akro Tirio's cloak form.
The couple did as Alan said and took off running. Alan angrily approached the stone giant as it came closer.
"God damn it, Dygra!" Alan said to it, as it broke into a ground shaking run. "Can't I spend one fucking day at the beach without one of you guys showing the fuck up!?"
 Akro Tirio's cloak split  into wings and lifted Alan into the air and toward Dygra. They were almost upon each other, when Alan grabbed one of Akro's tentacles. Akro let himself fall from Alan's throat as he shape-shifted into the form of a very large sledge hammer.
"Stop!" Alan shouted, swinging the hammer in midair so that it collided with Dygra's head. "Hammer time!"
After getting his strike in, Alan fell to the ground, landing in the sand. The hammer in his hand vibrated a bit as Akro let out a grumbling sound and shrunk to a more natural size.
"Well, I don't see you coming up with one-liners!" Alan snapped.
Dygra, having barely felt the earlier attack, raised a giant fist and slammed it down where Alan was standing. Alan dodged the attack and slipped between Dygra's legs, coming out behind the giant monster. One of the Tentacles smashed down, barely missing Alan, and then the next tentacle came down, and Alan had to jump on top of the first one to dodge it. The tentacle he was standing on suddenly lifted into the air, throwing him off balance, and he fell down to the ground. He tried to get back up, but his vision suddenly began fading and he lost his sense of balance.
"God damn vertigo!" Alan shouted.
Dygra turned around and lifted a foot, preparing to crush Alan beneath it. Alan rolled out from under it and raised his hammer into the air. Akro quickly shifted into his gun form, and Alan fired a few bullets directly into Dygra's face. Dygra let out a low, gravelly war cry, and raised its leg again.
"Akro! Fly me!" Alan said.
Akro Tirio shifted back into its winged form and lifted Alan into the air. They flew up to Dygra's face, and Alan slammed one of his steel knuckles directly into its ruby colored eye. One of Dygra's tentacles swung through the air, and Alan was just able to dodge it. The next tentacle barely missed him as well. Dygra cried out angrily and struck Alan with a powerful backhand.
Alan wasn't expecting that attack, or the force it had carried. The smack was strong enough that it sent Alan and Akro both flying into the horizon.

***Meanwhile, in the Knave's Way***

"God, it's dark in here," Jaxson said.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Jarmil said. "I keep forgetting other people need light to see!"
A bright ball of crimson flames appeared in Jarmil's hand, casting light on their surroundings.
"Oh god, turn it off!" Jaxson gasped.
"Okay," Jarmil said, as the flames disappeared.
"Turn it back on," Artur said.
"Make up your damn minds!" Jarmil exclaimed, as the flame came back into existence.
The Knave's Way resembled a massive, underground cave, with alien rock formations, and jutting chasms and fissures. But what had frightened Jaxson were the creatures crawling around in the darkness. Pale humanoid beings, with no clothing or hair. Their faces were elongated like a canine's muzzle. Their feet were stretched out, and were almost in the shape of horse hooves, except that they ended in sharp claws. Their fingers were stretched out, and seemed to have four segments instead of the normal three.
"What are they?" Jaxson whispered.
"Ghouls," Artur said. He had donned a long, brown robe before coming into the Knave's Way with them. "And trust me, it's better that we see them than not see them."
"They're not too hostile," Jarmil said reassuringly. "Just don't get too close, or they might decide you're a threat."
"So... they won't eat me or anything?" Jaxson asked.
"Not unless you're already dead," Jarmil said, smiling.
"Creepy," Jaxson muttered.  "So, what's the deal with this place?"
"The Knave's Way is essentially folded space," Artur explained. "It makes it possible to travel long distances in a short amount of time."
"Interesting," Jaxson said. "So how do we get out?"
"We click our heels together three times," Jarmil said.
"Very funny," Jaxson said.
"All we need to do is perform a quick ritual, and a door will open," Artur said.
"Okay," Jaxson said. "So, how do you summon those fireballs?"
"These?" Jarmil said, nodding at the flame in his hand. "These are the flames of Cthugha. I stole his power."
"Excuse me?" Jaxson asked.
"Have you ever heard of the Necronomicon?" Jarmil asked.
"Yes, of course I have," Jaxson said.
"My father owned it for a while," Jarmil said. "He managed to decode some of its secrets."
"What do you mean 'decode'?" Jaxson asked.
"The Necronomicon contains many spells and information of the gods," Jarmil said. "But there's more to it than just that. There are rituals written into the book as codes, which few people know about. My father uncovered some of them, and taught them to me. Amongst them is the means to steal power from the Great Old Ones."
"So, you can steal the abilities of the gods?" Jaxson asked.
"It isn't easy, but yes," Jarmil said. "I've done it multiple times. Some gods even gave me their power willingly."
"Is that so?" Jaxson asked.
"Yes," Jarmil said. "I'm nowhere near as powerful as they are though. And I can only use one power at a time. Mixing them would be... ugly..."
"Uglier than the ghouls?" Jaxson asked.
"Yes," Jarmil said.
Suddenly, an orb of silver and gray flames appeared before them, hovering in the air.
"Holy shit, silver flames!" Jaxson gasped.
"What the hell is silver?" Jarmil asked, as the orb reformed itself, taking the shape of an androgynous, humanoid being. Its gender was obscure, and it glowed with a soft gray light.
"Hello, Jarmil," it spoke, with multiple voices at once, both male and female.
"Hello, Phoomy," Jarmil said casually.
"I told you not to call me that," the being said.
"What is that thing?" Jaxson asked.
"It's Aphoom-Zhah, the Cold Flame," Artur said. "It is the progeny of Cthugha."
"So that thing's an Old One?" Jaxson asked.
"Yes," the being said. "I've come to deliver a message to Jarmil."
"What is it?" Jarmil asked.
"Fifteen hundred years ago, I was asked to relay some information to you on this exact date," Aphoom-Zhah said. "Soon, in Japan,  you will meet someone named Alan Peredur. He will play a large role in Drahoslav's scheme."
"What does that mean?" Jarmil asked. "Is that some kind of prophecy? What side is he on?"
"I'm sorry," Aphoom-Zhah said. "That is all I can tell you."
With that, Aphoom-Zhah vanished. 

***Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Tokyo***

Jierge landed outside the city limits, and Takumi let himself down to the ground, holding his staff in his hand.
"Finally here," he said to himself.
He stared into the familiar city, stretching as far as his eyes could see. It felt odd, being back. It seemed like so long since he had left this place behind. But right now, it was his best chance of finding the Necronomicon.
"Jierge!" he said. "Suterusumōdo!"
Jierge nodded, and his coloration changed. New colors swirled amongst the green and violet, and they soon blendeed in with his surroundings, camoflaging him from all sides.
"Good," Takumi said. "Now... the 'Silver Wolves'... let's see what we can find out about them."

***Several hours later***

Alan and Akro continued flying through the sky over the ocean. The momentum from Dygra's attack was still carrying them. Although Alan had panicked at first, by this point he was just bored.
"How long have we been flying?" Alan asked.
Akro grumbled a short response.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Alan said.
Akro growled again.
"I don't know," Alan said. "Maybe I should invest in an odometer. Hey, do you think we might be moving fast enough for an iron-hide spell?"
Akro grumbled again.
"Worth a shot I guess," Alan said.
Alan pulled a sharpie from his pocket and drew a series of complex symbols on his left forearm. He then drew a large amount of cosmic energy into his body, and accumulated it all into his skin where the symbols where drawn. The energy thickened as it flew through the markings, and Alan allowed it to spread through the rest of his skin.
"Balahask'e!" Alan said.
Instantly, Alan's skin began glowing a deep red.
"Awesome!" Alan said. "Invincibility! Never had a chance to use this one before. Alright, Akro, this spell only affects me, so you should get off my back before we crash into som-"
Alan was immediately cut off when he crashed, back-first, into a building. The wall cracked behind him, and he became lodged in the dent he had made.
"You okay Akro?" Alan asked, as the spell wore off and his skin returned to normal.
Akro let out a low growl in response.
"That's good," Alan said. "I didn't feel a thing."
Alan then slipped from the wall and fell to the ground, landing on his feet. As he hit the ground, pain jolted through his left foot.
"Oh shit!" Alan gasped, dropping to his knees. "Okay, yeah, I felt that!"
He then became aware of several people giving him weird looks on the street. Of course. A strange man in a mask wearing a cloak had came flying across the sky and crashed into a building. Why wouldn't they be staring? Alan turned to run away, but his foot hurt again as soon as he put pressure on it.
"Shit!" Alan said. "Carry me!"
Akro's cloak tore apart into a pair of wings and tentacles, startling everyone. Someone snapped a picture as they flew off.
The two of them landed in an alleyway a mile away. Akro let go of Alan and returned to his normal form while Alan pulled his jacket out of his satchel and threw it on. He removed his mask and knuckles and put them on their respective hooks.
"Is it just me, or did those people look really... Asian?" Alan asked.
Akro grumbled something.
"I'm not being racist, I'm stating a fact!" Alan argued. "And those signs we passed a minute ago... I think they were in Japanese."
Akro growled in agreement.
"Was I just pimp slapped across the Pacific ocean?" Alan asked.
Akro grumbled something else.
"Shit," Alan said. He then bent down to look at his foot. "I think it may be broken..."
Akro let out a concerned growl.
"I'll be fine," Alan said. "I cover my body in burn wounds every time I go to sleep, a broken foot is nothing."
Alan pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. It had been near sunset in California when Dygra had slapped him, and he had been flying for about three and a half hours. He was in another time zone, about 7 hours earlier than California, so the time was now about 2 in the afternoon. Thankfully, Alan's phone automatically reset its time whenever he left the timezone.
"Okay, let's think for a moment here," Alan said, untucking his shirt so that his belt was concealed. "We're in Japan. Neither of us speak Japanese. So, what do we do?"
Akro growled something as a response.
"Okay, as fun as that would be, I was actually thinking of learning their language," Alan said.
Akro replied with a grumbling noise.
"Well, I guess I'll have to find a bookstore and see if they have an English to Japanese dictionary," Alan said. "But there's only so much I can learn from that. That's why I need you to do something for me."
Akro let out a short growl.
"I need you to fly around and eavesdrop on people," Alan said. "See if you can learn some slang for me. In the meantime, I'll see if I can find a bookstore."
Akro growled again.
"I'll be fine," Alan said, putting a little pressure on his foot. "I just have to go easy on it. Now go on!"
Akro gave Alan another concerned look before taking off.

***Meanwhile***

A door appeared in an alleyway, on the outside wall of a building. Jarmil, Artur, and Jaxson all stepped out of it.
"An empty alleyway," Jaxson commented. "This isn't cliche at all."
"So, what do we do first?" Artur asked.
"You guys see if you can find that band Drahoslav mentioned in the note," Jarmil said. "They may know something. I'm gonna go find this 'Alan Peredur' character."
"Wait," Jaxson said. "I should go with you."
"No," Jarmil said. "You will go with Artur. You know music, he knows recon. You'll need each other's help."
"But how will you know where Alan is without asking someone?" Jaxson asked. "You don't speak Japanese, do you?"
"No," Jarmil said. "But I can learn a person's name as soon as I meet them. That will be enough."
"Are you sure?" Artur asked. "We don't know who this guy is. What are you gonna do if you find him?"
"I'll wait and see what he does," Jarmil said. "Then I'll decide what to do."

***Three hours later***

Alan stopped and leaned against a wall. He hadn't had any luck tracking down a bookstore, and his foot was beginning to throb. Plus, he had had two vertigo attacks since Akro left. This was beginning to take its toll on him.
"Damn it," Alan sighed. "This would be so much easier if I could speak enough Japanese to ask directions."
He started walking again, trying to put as little pressure on his foot as he could. The street he was walking down was empty, save for one girl in the distance, who was watching him intently. He didn't like it, so he decided to go down an alley to try and get out of her sight. He ended up stumbling across a group of  four men surrounding a girl at the other end of the alley.
She was just a couple years younger than Alan, and had dark purple hair, which was swept in front of the left side of her face. She was dressed in a long sleeved green shirt with a brown buttoned up vest over it, and her pants were dark black with a plaid skirt around her waist.
Two of the men had her by the arms, and another of them was standing back and laughing. The fourth one approached her and ripped her vest open, then began to fiddling with her skirt, while she screamed in protest.
"Chigau!" she shouted at the man. "Yamete!"
Alan had no idea what that meant, but he couldn't just stand there. He sucked in air quickly, letting out a loud noise. He had no idea how to whistle properly, but he could make a similar sound by sucking in air the right way. The ear splitting sound caught the men's attention, and they all turned to him. The man who was standing back shouted something that Alan couldn't comprehend.
"I have no idea what you just said," Alan said, slipping on his steel knuckles. "But I recognize an attempted rape when I see one."
The man who was standing back and the man working on the girl's clothes both drew switchblades and charged at Alan, shouting Japanese battle cries. Alan evaded their attacks and punched them both out easily. One of the men holding the girl released her and drew a gun. Alan fell sideways behind some trashcans to avoid the bullets which were now being fired at him. He grabbed what looked like an empty soda can on the ground and waited for the shots to stop. He got back up to his knees and threw the can at the guy's head. It didn't hurt him, but it distracted the man long enough for Alan to draw some cosmic energy into his body.
"Kazmararra!" Alan muttered, placing a hand on the trashcan next to him.
The cosmic energy built up in his body rushed out, knocking the trashcan toward the man with the gun. Startled, the other man who had been holding the girl loosened his grip, and she immediately took advantage of the opportunity. She twisted out of his grip and kicked him right in the nuts. The man cried in pain, and then backhanded her so hard she was knocked off balance and fell to the ground. Alan charged toward him immediately, ignoring the pain in his foot as it hit the ground. His right hand collided with the man's forehead, and he went down.
"Fuck you," Alan said.
He then turned to the girl. It was his first time seeing her this close. Whoa, she's pretty cute, he thought to himself. Her eyes were a deep violet, and she had a pale complexion. The side of her face which had been hidden by her hair before was covered in burn scars, surrounding her left eye, and the cheek bellow it, as well as part of her throat. It would have bothered some people, but Alan didn't care. Hell, his Dreamland form was even worse.
"Are you-?" he started to ask, but stopped himself. "Shit, you can't understand me, can you?"
"I-I can," she said softly, sweeping her hair forward to cover her scars again.
"Oh," Alan said. "Wasn't expecting to find an English speaker around here. Are you okay?"
He offered her a hand to help her up, but she just looked at it.
"I'm fine," she said nervously.
Alan left his hand out for her, and she hesitantly took it. As Alan's hand wrapped around hers, he could feel the outlines of more scars on the back of it. He pulled her back to her feet slowly. She was almost as tall as he was, and had a nicely curved body. Even with the scars, she was attractive.
"I'm Alan," he said. "Alan Peredur."
"I'm... Asuka Tsukino," she said shyly. "Um... I have to go..."
She took off without saying another word, leaving Alan standing alone in the alleyway.
"Um... I'll see you around, I guess," Alan called after her. Then he thought for a second and said "Damn it! I should have asked her where the bookstore is! And also how to say 'where can I find an English to Japanese dictionary?' in Japanese."
He paused for a moment, thinking of what to do next.
"Well," he said, looking at the unconscious men on the ground. "Let's see what these dicks have in their pockets."

***Meanwhile***

"Any luck?" Jarmil asked into his phone.
"A bit," Artur replied from the other end. "They've got a concert coming up in five days. We're on our way to the theater to see if we can find out more."
"You think you're up to this?" Jarmil asked.
"Oh, please!" came Jaxson's voice. "I stalk bands all the time! I know what I'm doing!"
"Alright," Jarmil said. "Give me a call if you find out any-"
Jarmil sneezed loudly before he could finish his sentence.
"What was that?" cam Jaxson's voice again.
"He sneezed," Artur said.
"You know, they say that when you sneeze, it's because someone else is talking about you," Jaxson said.
"Those bastards!" Jarmil shouted, frightening some nearby tourists. "Don't they have any idea what they're doing to my nasal  cavity!"
"I'm sure that's just a myth," Artur said. "Anyway, I'll call if I find anything."
"Sure thing," Jarmil said, wiping his nose off.
He closed his phone and leaned against a brick wall, listening to the traffic as it passed by.
"Damn it, Drahoslav," he muttered. "Where the hell are you?"

***Half an hour later***

Alan approached a store, looking in its windows. It was a large store, about the size of a grocery store, and it was full of books.
"This looks promising," he said, walking through the door.
There were rows upon rows of books inside, and there was even a small coffee shop built in to one of the corners. It was just like a Barnes and Noble, only everything was in Japanese, and Alan had no idea where to look first.
A lady approached him and said something he couldn't understand. Not knowing how to respond, Alan scratched the back of his head and said "Um, Cone-itchy-wah?"
There was a laugh behind him, and he turned to see a young girl standing behind him. She had bright pink hair and green eyes, and was dressed in a dark red shirt and blue jeans.
"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked.
"Obviously," Alan said. "You speak English?"
"Sure do," she said. "My name's Ayako. You?"
"I'm Alan," he said. "Um... am I supposed to add a 'San' or something to the end of your name?"
"It's considered impolite if you don't," she said. "But I don't care."
Ayako said something to the other girl, who turned away and left them alone.
"So, are you looking for something specific?" she asked.
"Yeah," Alan said. "I need an English to Japanese dictionary. Do you know if they carry those here?"
"You can't learn a language just from reading a dictionary," she said, laughing.
"Clearly, you don't know me," Alan said.
"Follow me," Ayako said. "I'll show you where they're at."
"So, do you work here?" Alan asked, as they walked through the store.
"Sometimes," Ayako said. "Just for the next month or two."
"Neat," Alan said.
"So what brings you to Japan?" she asked, stopping in front of a shelf and kneeling down to look at the books on the lower shelf.
"It's complicated," Alan said.
"Okay," she said. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said.
"Is that so?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied.
"Okay then," she chuckled, pulling a book from the shelf and handing it to him. "I'm pretty sure this is the best one they have. The front half is Japanese to English, the second half is English to Japanese. Do you have enough money for this?"
Alan reached into his pocket and pulled out some of the money he had taken from the thugs earlier. He looked at it questioningly for a bit.
"I have no idea how to count Japanese cash," he admitted.
Ayako laughed loudly.
"Here, I'll help you with that," she said.
About ten minutes later, they managed to get the amount figured out, and the book paid for. Alan still had a bit of the stolen money left over as he left the store with the book in hand.
"Hey," Ayako said. "My mom's gonna be coming by to pick me up in about fifteen minutes. You need a lift anywhere?"
"No thanks," Alan said. "I'll be fine."
"Really?" Ayako said. "Because it looks like you're limping."
"It's nothing," Alan lied. "It's just a bit of a sprain. I'll be okay."
"If you insist," Ayako said. "See you around, Alan."
"You too, Ayako," Alan said.

***Two hours later***

Takumi stepped into Hamarikyu Gardens, with his invisible steed watching him from a distance. There was a group of at least a dozen men there, chatting quickly with each other in Japanese. They all had the same two symbols stitched into various parts of their clothing; shirts, pants, wristbands, bandannas. The symbols read 銀 狼,and Takumi grinned broadly. Gin ōkami. These were the Silver Wolves.
"Oi!" Takumi called, getting their attention. "Dokona no!?"
Takumi had asked them "where is it?", and one of the men sneered at him.
"Anata wa nani o hanashite iru!?" he said, asking what Takumi was talking about.
"Za· Necronomicon," Takumi said, glaring at the man.
"Watashi wa anata ga nani o itte iru no ka wakaranai," the man said, talking a step back nervously. He had told Takumi that he didn't know what he was talking about.
"Oshiete!" Takumi said threateningly, raising his staff. The gem at its tip glowed a deep crimson, and some of the men gasped in alarm. "Matawa Shinu!" Takumi added. He had told them to tell him, or die.

***Meanwhile***

Alan stopped at the bottom of a tall building. He needed a place to crash. He couldn't speak enough Japanese to get a room, so a rooftop would have to do. He pulled a sharpie out of his pocket and drew a large rectangle on the ground, then bisected it with a straight line. He then drew a circle at each corner, with a line through each of them, and then finished by drawing a triangle with another line through it in the center.
For the rest of the spell to work, Alan would need the blessing of an Old One who could control air. There were only two that he knew about, and since he had never actually met Hastur before, he decided to contact the god he had encountered in the past.
"Iebirust," he said.
Who is this? said an voice in Alan's head.
"Um, hey Ithaqua," Alan said.
Oh god, it's you again, Ithaqua's voice said. What is it?
"I need help with a Veratian Platform," Alan said.
My father would be more suited to this task, Ithaqua said.
"Well, I don't know him like I know you," Alan said. "I've never even met the guy."
So you went with the evil you're familiar with? Ithaqua asked. I suppose that makes sense. Give me a moment.
The symbols Alan had drawn glowed momentarily, then stopped. Alan reached forward, and his hands found the invisible platform that had formed above the symbols. It was made of solidified air, and couldn't be seen. Only felt. Alan stepped onto it.
"Up," he said, and the platform ascended.
Why are you so interested in getting up there? Ithaqua's voice said.
"Whoa, are you still in my head?" Alan asked.
Yes, Ithaqua replied.
"Why?" Alan asked.
Because you're an idiot and I want to make sure you don't screw up this spell, Ithaqua said.
"Oh, well thank you, ye of little faith," Alan said sarcastically. "I'm not that stupid."
You're walking around on a broken foot, Ithaqua pointed out.
"Yeah, whatever," Alan said.
The platform reached the top of the building, and Alan jumped off onto the roof. He winced as his foot hit the solid surface beneath him. He sat down and sighed.
"Thanks," he said.
Whatever, Ithaqua's voice said, before going mute.
Alan sat and opened up his new book, intending to get some reading done. It was dark out, so he reached into his satchel and pulled out a flashlight. He sat there for a few minutes, before he was distracted by something. There was a flash of red light in the distance. He looked at where it had been, and another flash occurred. It looked just like...
"Lightning?" Alan questioned. "What the hell is going on over there?"
Alan shoved his book and flashlight into his satchel and zipped it up. He stepped to the edge of the building and shouted "Akro Tirio!" before stepping off. The ground rose up toward him, but before he hit it, Akro Tirio swooped up to him and caught him, lifting him into the air.
"Nice catch," Alan said.
Akro grumbled something in response.
"Come on," Alan said. "We've got something to check out."
With that, the two of them flew off in the direction the red lightning had come from.

Kzed Report 25

I've discovered some more about the abilities of a Shoggoth. Through my experiments, I've learned that a Shoggoth can hear its master from across the vacuum of space. Don't ask how we tested that out. It wasn't easy.
Normally, sound wouldn't be able to cross through space, because of the absence of air. But then I had another theory. What if the Shoggoth isn't hearing at all?
Through more tests, I learned that whenever Hikomo says his Shoggoth's name, it causes a brief distortion in the flow of Cosmic Energy. The Shoggoth is able to feel these distortions and locate their master from seemingly any distance.
I've also looked into Hikomo's ability to understand his Shoggoth. It seems they share some kind of psionic link. That's why Hikomo can understand it but I can't.
His Shoggoth is named Uragira. I'm not sure why he decided to call it that.

Three; Božský Zloděj

Jarmil Horak sighed deeply, lying down in his chair. He was sitting with his legs hanging over one of the armrests, and his head resting on the other. A few feet away from him was a TV, turned to a news channel with the volume low, so that he could hear what was going on without it being too distracting. He was seated in the basement of a small mansion in the Czech Republic, which had once been owned by his father, and now belonged to him. The basement was mostly empty, with symbols carved on some of the floors and walls, a small table in front of his chair, and a rusty sink in one of the corners, with a chest underneath it.
At his side was Artur Martinek, his right hand man. Artur was tall, with a scar on his left cheek, shoulder length black hair, lightly tanned skin, and bright blue eyes, a contrast to Jamril's blonde hair and pale skin. Jarmil's eyes remained closed, so the comparison between them could not be made. Jarmil was dressed in a long, black robe, closed shut over his torso, and a pair of black pants with three green tiger-stripes on each leg near his ankles. Artur was dressed in a gray button-up shirt and brown pants.
"This sucks...," Jarmil said. "When is he gonna get here?"
"Hopefully soon," Artur said. "Are you sure about him?"
"If the rumors are true, yes," Jarmil replied. "He'd be a valuable member."
"Let's hope it works out," Artur said. "Our numbers are low, and we could use someone with combat experience."
The door opened slowly. An young man walked in, dressed in a leather jacket and an ACDC T-shirt. His hair was died in multiple colors. Greens and violets and blacks, all swirling together, with no pattern or symmetry. His brown eyes scanned the room they were all in, and  pair of headphones, shaped vaguely like octopusses, played softly n his ears.
"Hey, is Jarmil here?" he asked.
"Yes I am," Jarmil said. "Come on in, Jaxson."
"How do you know my name?" Jaxson asked, taking a step in and closing the door behind him.
"A neat little ability I have," Jarmil said. "No one can keep their names secret from me."
"Huh," Jaxson said. "I've seen weird abilities before, but this is a first. So, why'd you call me here?"
Jarmil shifted in his chair so that he was seated upside down, with his legs in the air. His robes slipped down some, exposing the bottom of his finely toned abs.
"Well, once I heard the great Song Breaker was visiting Czechoslovakia, I just had to make your acquaintance," Jarmil said.
"Don't you mean Czech Republic?" Jaxson asked.
"I never quite agreed with the name change," Jaarmil said, frowning. "So, what brings you to our country?"
"All the hot Czech babes, of course," Jaxson said, grinning.
Artur stifled a laugh, but Jarmil didn't bother, and simply burst into laughter.
"So whats the real reason you called me here?" Jaxson asked.
Jarmil turned around in his chair so that he was sitting upright. He raised his head and faced Jaxson. If his eyes had been open, they would be staring directly into Jaxson's.
"Would you like to join our cult?" Jarmil asked.
Jaxson sighed. "This offer, huh?" he asked. "I've been asked before. Even forced to join in some cases. Why should I?"
"I've heard of you," Jarmil said. "You'd make a great addition to my group."
"And what would you want me to do?" Jaxson asked. "Kill people? Steal? Bring about the end of the world? I've been asked that one a lot."
"No, that wouldn't be neccessary," Jarmil said. "If I was interested in the destruction of the world, I wouldn't need any assistance."
"Our objectives are a bit complicated," Artur said. "But our main goal is interfering with the affairs of other cults and occasionally doing favors to the Old Ones."
"So what, you're a goody-to-shoes cult?" Jaxson asked.
"Hardly," Jarmil said, reclining in his chair. "We engage in criminal activities, just like any other cult. We just don't like people taking it too far."
"So what are your numbers at?" Jaxson asked.
Jarmil winced as the question was asked, and Artur hesitantly answered for him.
"Including us," he said, "Six. Seven if you join."
"Lucky number, eh?" Jaxson asked.
"There are no lucky numbers," Jarmil said. "That's just a silly concept created by superstitious humans."
"And yet superpowered eldritch gods are a perfectly normal occurrence?" Jaxson asked. "Yeah, that's reasonable. Whatever. I guess I'll give it a shot."
"Really?" Jarmil asked.
"But I reserve the right to walk out whenever I want," Jaxson added.
"That's fine with me," Jarmil said. "I will respect your- Artur, can you please turn up the volume?"
Jaxson raised an eyebrow as Artur did as he was told and increased the volume on the TV. The lady on the news was speaking quickly in Czech, as a large group of people shoved each other around her.
"What's she saying?" Jaxson asked.
"You don't speak Czech?" Artur asked.
"I didn't realize you guys had your own language before I came here," Jaxson admitted, as Jarmil stood up and approached the TV, placing a hand on the screen and turning his face down to the ground.
"There's a gang fight going on nearby," Artur said. "It's causing a lot of chaos."
"Not a gang fight," Jarmil said, still facing the ground with his hand on the screen. "I recognize some of these guys from the Cult Of Cthulhu. Not sure who they're fighting though."
"You're looking at the ground with your eyes closed," Jaxson pointed out. "How can you see anything on that screen?"
"It's complicated," Artur said.
"Looks like the Cult Of Cthulhu is winning," Jarmil said.
There was a shriek as the woman on the news was cut down by a man with a sword. Jarmil growled in anger, and the TV screen cracked down the middle.
"Who was that?" Jaxson asked.
"Cepel," Artur said. "He's the leader of the Cult Of Cthulhu's Czech branch."
"And a huge dick!" Jarmil hissed. "We're going out to fight them! Now!"
"Why?" Jaxson asked. "What'd he do to you guys?"
"Well, where do I start?" Jarmil said. "He's insulted me to my face, killed one of my men, set the front yard on fire, and he just murdered my favorite news lady! He dies! Let's go!"
Jarmil stormed out of the room.
"Um... is our boss okay in the head?" Jaxson asked.
"Not really," Artur said. "But he's right. We have to get out there."
A few minutes later, Jarmil, Artur, and Jaxson stood out in the street, facing the men who had been fighting earlier. Only the Cthulhu Cult members were still standing. The other cultists were all lying on the ground, dead.
"Um, where's Cepel?" Jaxson asked.
"Up there," Jarmil said, pointing to a nearby rooftop, without turning his head. Cepel was standing at the top, looking down at them.
"Ahoj, Jarmil!" he said, smiling. "My men and I just got finished with the Faceless Man's Cult! And you're next!"
"Hloupý čurák," Jarmil muttered. "I'm gonna kill you. S oheň."
"Then come get me!" Celep taunted, taking off.
Jarmil removed his robe, exposing his bare, athletic chest. He tossed the robe to Jaxson, who nearly collapsed under the garment's weight. Jarmil ran toward the building and jumped up to the top of it with a single leap. He then turned back to Jaxson and Artur.
"I'll go after him!" he said. "You guys handle things here!"
Then he took off. Jaxson sighed, and allowed the heavy robe to fall to the ground.
"The hell is that thing made of?" he asked, and the cultists began approaching them, weapons drawn.
"Not sure," Artur said. "Jarmil wears it to train."
"I see," Jaxson said. "So, how long do you think this'll last?"
The cultists, who well outnumbered the two of them, broke into a run, getting closer to them.
"Two minutes," Artur said. "Tops."
"Damn," Jaxson said, increasing the volume on his MP3 player, as his eyes shifted to a deep green. "Not even enough time for a good song."

Elsewhere, at the top of another building, Celep came to a halt and turned. He was alone.
"Heh, figured he'd be able to keep up," he said. "Guess I was wrong."
"Not quite," came Jarmil's voice from behind him.
Celep turned to see Jarmil landing at the edge of the building a few yards behind him. A pair of wings, wider than Jarmil was tall, were sprouting from his back. they were emaciated looking, with the skin stretched taught between them. They quickly twisted in on themselves, crumpling up and retracting back into Jarmil's back. He winced as they painfully disappeared.
"What the hell?" Celep asked.
"Neat, huh?" Jarmil said, smiling.
He then rushed forward. Celep swung his sword, which Jarmil ducked. Jarmil threw a punch, which Celep managed to dodge, before slashing his sword again. Jarmil dodged all of his attacks and sent a swift snap kick to Celep's chest, knocking him back a few feet. Celep slashed his sword again, but this time a wave of scarlet energy was released from the sword. Jarmil jumped up into the air, managing to leap above the shockwave as it flew by.
"That's a R'lyehian blade," Jarmil said, as he touched back to the ground.
"That's right!" Celep gloated. "This blade was given to me by the strongest man I know. With it, I am unbea-"
He was cut off when Jarmil punched him so hard in the face that he was knocked to the ground.
"Ow!" Celep exclaimed. "Do prdele!"
"You can fight and talk and the same time," Jarmil said. "You don't have to freezeframe when you monologue."
"Seru na tebe!" Celep shouted, swinging his sword upward.
Jarmil dodged the attack, but Celep managed to kick him in the knee. As Jarmil lost his balance, Celep quickly jumped up to his feet and grabbed Jarmil by the arm. Then, with a surprising amount of force, he threw Jarmil toward the edge of the building. As he flew over the edge, a large tentacle sprouted from his back and suctioned itself to the edge. Using the momentum from Celep's toss, Jarmil flung himself back at Celep. Celep dodged, and swung his sword at Jarmil as he flew past. Jarmil dropped his weight to the ground, managing to slip underneath the swing, and sweep kicked Celep's legs from beneath him. As he fell to the ground, Jarmil grabbed him with his tentacle and threw him toward the edge. Celep managed to roll to a stop before falling over and got to his feet as Jarmil's tentacle retracted into his back.
"So, who's this 'strongest man you know'?" Jarmil asked, dusting himself off.
"You already know him," Celeb said.
He swung his sword again, releasing another wave of power. Before it hit, an armor made of stone covered Jarmil's torso, with gemstones embedded in it.
"Brnění?" Celep exclaimed.
"I'm getting tired of this nesmysl," Jarmil said.
"So am I!" Celep said, as he began swinging his sword wildly.
He sent wave after wave of power at Jarmil, who was driven back by the repeated impact. His armor slowly started to crack, but before it could give way completely, Celep collapsed in exhaustion.
"Finished?" Jarmil asked, allowing his armor  to crumble and fall to the ground.
"Ticho!" Celep shouted, trying to get back up, using his sword for support.
"That sword clearly isn't safe to use," Jarmil said. "I don't like weapons, but this one is especially stupid."
"Shut your trap, you píča!" Celep shouted, rising and getting ready to swing again.
Before he could, the blade was cut in two, and one end fell to the ground. Celep gazed in horror at Jarmil's face, which was now concealed beneath an intricately carved mask of solid gold, without any eyeholes.
"Y-you broke the sword master Abreu gave me!" Celep gasped.
"Abreu!?" Jarmil demanded. "You mean Drahoslav Abreu!?"
"How did you...," Celep asked, still gawking at his broken blade.
Jarmil flicked one of his fingers, and a gash appeared on one of Celep's shoulders. He screamed in pain and clutched at the wound.
"Tell me about Drahoslav!" Jarmil demanded. "How is he back!"
"I-I can't tell you anything!" Celep stuttered, terrified.
"Then you can suffer for your silence!" Jarmil exclaimed. "Disgusting špína!"
Jarmil waved his hand in a wide arc, and both of Celep's legs were severed above the knees. He fell to the ground, crying in agony, and Jarmil approached. His mask melted away to nothing, exposing his outraged expression, with eyes still shut.
"What are you!?" Celep cried.
"Božský zloděj," Jarmil said. "The thief of the Gods."
Jaarmil raised a had into the air.
"Do you know why they call me that?" he demanded. "Do you want to know what I stole from them?"
Celep trembled on the roof beneath Jarmil. Despite his intense pain, the morbid curiosity was still there. He slowly muttered a weak "Yes" as he gazed up at Jarmil's furious face. Instantly, an orb of fires the size of a baseball appeared in Jarmil's hand, and in a matter of seconds, it expanded until it was ten feet across.
"Their power!" Jarmil exclaimed, slamming the ball of fire down on top of Celep's body.

***Ten minutes later, back at the base***

Artur hung Jarmil's robe on the doorknob and shut the door. Jaxson was at the sink, washing his forearms, which were completely drenched in blood.
"That was depressingly short," Jaxson said. "Barely had time for have of 'Love Bites' by Halestorm."
"Maybe our next fight will be longer," Artur said, going over to the broken TV. "Damn. This the fourth television he's broken this year."
"Is that so?" Jaxson asked. "I'm beginning to question what I signed up for."
It took Jaxson a few more minutes to clean his hands, but when he was almost finished, Jarmil walked in. He grabbed his robe off the doorknob and slipped it on.
"So what happened?" Jaxson asked, turning from the sink.
"I incinerated him," Jarmil said. "Also, he's back."
Jarmil said the would 'He' harshly, all but spitting out the word.
"Who?" Artur asked.
"Náš Bratranec," Jarmil hissed.
"Drahoslav!?" Artur gasped. "But... he can't be back!"
"Well, he is!" Jarmil said. "And what the fuck is on my chair!"
Jarmil still hadn't opened his eyes, but he had still somehow noticed the folded piece of paper on his chair. He picked it up, unfolded it, and placed a hand to it.
"Am I missing something?" Jaxson asked.
"Drahoslav Xesús Mikuláš Abreu," Artur said. "It's a long story, but he's our enemy."
"Oh," Jaxson said.
"I recognize this handwriting," Jarmil said. "It's him."
"You didn't even look at the note!" Jaxson said.
"Don't need to," Jarmil said. "He says he's where the jewel birds sing. What the hell does that mean?"
"Tokyo," Jaxson said, without missing a beat.
"What?" Jarmil asked.
"Emerarudo Karasu," Jaxson said. "They're a Japanese rock back. Most of the members, except for the keyboard player, own property in Tokyo."
"Emerararudo Ka-Ra-Su?" Jarmil asked.
"Emerarudo Karasu," Jaxson said. "Emerald Raven. I think that's what our guy meant."
"You can speak Japanese?" Artur asked.
"I learned it for all the hot Japanese babes," Jaxson said.
"Artur!" Jarmil said. "Open the Knave's Way!"
Artur approached a glyph carved into one of the walls. He drew a finger poker from his pocket and pricked his finger with it, then wiped the blood off on the symbols. They started glowing, and a door appeared there.
"What's this?" Jaxson asked.
"This," Jarmil said, "Is how we're getting to Tokyo."

Kzed Report 4

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn". There's many ways of saying this phrase, but they all mean the same thing; "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming". It is written in the R'lyeh'n language, which few people can speak.
R'lyeh is said to be the prison of the Old One Cthulhu. It exists both inside and outside of our normal reality. I'm not sure what that means exactly...
It's approximate coordinates are in the Pacific ocean at 48 degrees South and 128 degrees west. It is said to be a sunken city that can somehow exist in multiple dimensions at once.
The architecture there is supposedly alien, beyond the comprehension of mortals. Geometry that makes no sense at all to those who don't understand it.
But I seek to understand everything. If only there were some way to see this place for myself...

Two; Sparks

It was early morning in Thailand. The sun had yet to rise, and the skies were dark. The perfect time for Takumi to meet with his contact. He was flying through the sky, riding on the back of his shoggoth. The shoggoth, Jierge, resembled a large, hairless stallion, with skin colored in a purple and green hue. A pair of bat-like wings sprouted from its back, carrying it through the sky. Where its tail should have been were a series of long, whip-like tendrils, and several smaller tendrils sprouted from its flank and shoulders. A long, red blade sprouted from its head, and there were two long, think tentacles where its ears should have been. It was these tentacles that Takumi held on to to secure himself in place.
Takumi was a tall man, in his late twenties. His hair was pitch black and flowed down to his waist, and he was dressed in a black robe, with a black shirt and pants underneath it. His face was smooth and oval shaped, the only blemish being a couple scars on his lip.
His black eyes scanned the ground bellow him. He was safely hidden by the clouds, but he could still see the passing lights bellow him. He gazed down at the intersection of the town he was supposed to be meeting in, and saw a blinking red light. The signal that the coast was clear down there.
"Oriru," he said to Jierge. The shoggoth immediately dropped down, landing in the street. Takumi looked to see the small group of people waiting for them. One of them was holding up a staff with a bright red jewel at one end, which was flashing light. It was almost as long as the man was tall, and why he didn't just use a colored flashlight was a question Takumi decided could wait.
"S̄wạs̄dī!" the man with the staff said.
"Excuse me?" Takumi said, not understanding.
"I said 'hello'," the man said. "Really, Mr. Tachibana, if you're going to visit a foreign country, you should at learn the basic introductions."
"My apologies," Takumi said. "So you're the one who called me?"
"Yes," the man said.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, San," Takumi said. "You have it?"
"Yes," San said. "It's in the lair here. We had to keep it hidden. You understand, right?"
"Of course," Takumi said.
"Follow me," the man said, gesturing to a small house nearby.
San's men went inside, with San behind them. San stopped before entering, and looked back at Takumi. Takumi had lightly tugged at one of the tentacles on Jierge's head, and the shoggoth had leaned down a bit so that Takumi could whisper something to it.
"Are you coming?" San asked.
"Yes," Takumi said.
Takumi and San entered the house, with Jierge close behind them.  The foyer was decently sized, with the four men from outside having plenty of room to lounge around as they entered. One of the men looked at the horse-like creature and asked a question to San in Thai. San responded quickly.
"What was that about?" Takumi asked, unable to understand them.
"He was just wondering why we brought your shoggoth inside," San said. "I assume its to keep passerby from seeing it while we're in here?"
"It's a he," Takumi said. "And yes, that's pretty much it."
"I see," San said. "He'll have to wait here. He won't fit in the stairway to the basement."
"Basement?" Takumi asked.
"That's where it's hidden," San said. "I'll take you. My men will watch your shoggoth while we go."
"Fine by me," Takumi said.
Takumi and San went to the stairway going down to the basement. Before descending down beneath the floor, San turned to his men and said "Pt̩ibạti Mạn."
Takumi and San continued down the stairs. They were now in a dimly lit room, where two other men were waiting. there was nothing else in the room.
"So let me guess," Takumi said, coming to a halt. "It's not here. You lied to me to draw me into a trap. You don't really have the Necronomicon."
"What makes you think that?" San asked.
"The fact that you just told your men to kill my shoggoth," Takumi said. San stepped back in alarm. "I don't speak your language," Takumi continued. "But I learned the few phrases that would tip me off if you intended to betray me. And honestly, they'd be doing me a favor."
"Excuse me?" San asked.
"All shoggoth eventually betray their masters," Takumi said. "In the improbable chance that they do manage to kill Jierge, they'd just be saving me the trouble of doing it myself later."
San let out a sigh before saying "Ying!"
The two men in the room quickly drew pistols. Takumi reacted by throwing his arms up to shield his face, but the men aimed for his chest instead. They each shot a bullet, and Takumi fell to the ground, unmoving. The men approached him hesitantly, but in an instant he had rolled over and drawn a pair of pistols. Before they could react, he shot them both in the foreheads. He rolled onto his front again and lifted himself to his feet. The bullets, though having drawn blood, were still embedded in Takumi's robe.
"Did you really think I didn't see that coming?" Takumi said. "You're dumber than I thought. So what's this about?"
"Three months ago, you gunned down my sister in Mongolia while on your crazy search for the Book Of The Dead," San said bitterly.
"So this is revenge, huh?" Takumi said. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
"Caezurgo!" San yelled, and he drew a large amount of cosmic energy into his body. It was channeled into his staff, and was released as a bolt of freezing snow.
"Bierto Malus!" Takumi said, placing his guns together. A bolt of red lightning exploded from them both, colliding with San's ice blast and neutralizing it. Takumi had done the same as San. He had drawn cosmic energy into his body, then channeled it into his guns, while stating the incantation, in order to convert it into a different form of energy.
"Those guns are focuses?" San asked.
"Not very strong ones," Takumi replied. "But when used together, they're just as effective as that staff of yours."
"You haven't seen what this staff can do yet," San said. "Gierze!"
San gripped his staff at the top, near the jewel, while the rest of it changed form into an excessively long flamberge. He swung the sword with surprising speed, and Takumi barely dodged it. San swung again, cleaving one of Takumi's guns in two.
"Shit!" Takumi said. He needed both of them to cast his lightning spell. With one gone, he was limited in what spells he could cast. He quickly took aim and shouted "Visercho!"
A small ball of fire shot from the barrel of his gun, but San ducked before it hit and slashed at Takumi, slicing his shoulder. Takumi dropped his remaining gun as he clutched at his new wound, and San took his chance.
"Gazalos!" he said, and a wave of energy flowed from the sword. Takumi's gun became encased in ice on the ground.
"That thing can still serve as a focus in its sword form?" Takumi asked.
"It loses some power, but yes," San said. Now die!"
He swung again, and Takumi quickly drew a dagger from inside his robe to block with. It was a long knife, with a turquoise gem embedded in its handle. Takumi was able to block a few of San's sword strikes, but he failed to defend against the rising knee that collided with his solar plexus. San immediately followed by striking Takumi's jaw with his free hand. Takumi spun around and dropped to his knees. With his back to San, he stabbed his knife into the ground and drew an identical one from his robe before turning back to the fight.
Takumi charged in, stabbing wildly, going on the offensive.
"Yes!" San said, as his adrenaline took a hold of him. "Fight me with all you have! I want to enjoy this!"
"If that's the case, then how's this!?" Takumi yelled, drawing a third knife in his free hand and continuing his assault.
San swung his sword with both hands, knocking Takumi back a bit, then delivered a kick to one of Takumi's earlier bullet wounds. Takumi fell down again, a few feet to the left of the dagger he had stabbed into the ground earlier. San stood above him, knees spread apart in a fighting stance.
"Finished already?" San asked.
"Don't gloat so soon," Takumi hissed.
He quickly stabbed his other two knives into the ground, then ninja rolled between San's legs. He spun around quickly, still on his knees, and drew two more daggers, which he stabbed into the ground as well, forming a circle with the other three.
"Settra!" Takumi said.
The daggers became connected to each other by a large, five-pointed star with a circle, instantly engraved into the ground, and glowing with a cyan light. San was standing in the center, with Takumi kneeling on the outside.
"Gariento!" Takumi said, and San suddenly collapsed, unable to support his own weight.
"What is this!?" San demanded.
"A pentagram seal," Takumi said. "These daggers are all focuses. You should have paid attention while I was putting them in place. Now that they're connected this way, I can channel cosmic power through them all simultaneously, effecting the area within the seal. Right now, I've used a gravity spell. Next, comes something worse."
Panic instantly gripped San. "Please! Don't do this!" he begged.
"Fakku anata," Takumi said, then followed up with "Bierto Malus!"
The circle's color shifted to bright red, and lightning engulfed San's body, reducing him to ash.
"Nisettra," Takumi said, and the circle vanished. He picked up the sword on the ground and muttered "Gierze." It returned to its staff form. "I think I'll keep this," Takumi said to the pile of ashes at his feet. "Since you don't seem to have what I came here for."
"Oh, he didn't have the book, but I know who does!" said a delighted voice. Takumi turned to a man standing it the corner, dressed in a long sleeved, button up shirt, and brown slacks. His short black hair was combed nicely, and his eyes were a very deep shade of green.
"Who the hell are you!?" Takumi demanded.
Suddenly, the man was behind him, with his face right by Takumi's ear.
"I am like you," he whispered. "A former cultist of Cthulhu."
"Gierze!" Takumi shouted, swinging around and slashing his staff as it transformed.
But the man was at the foot of the stairs now, standing with his arms outstretched, as if wanting a hug.
"The Necronomicon is in Tokyo, in the hands of the Silver Wolves," he said, before disappearing entirely.
"Wait!" Takumi yelled. "Get back here! Who the fuck are you!"
The mans voice resounded through the air, laughing gleefully.
"My name is Drahoslav!" his voice rang. "And we will soon meet again, Takumi Tachibana!"
The voice faded. Takumi clearly wouldn't get any more answers, so he did what he could. He packed up his daggers and ascended the stairs. As he walked into the foyer, he saw the sight of Jierge munching on the carcasses of the men who had been in there before. But it was a sight Takumi was entirely used to by now. He walked to the door, ignoring the carnage around him.
"Kuru," Takumi said to Jierge.
The shoggoth let out a loud neigh, which Takumi perceived as "Where are we going next?" Takumi paused for a moment, thinking of the words Drahoslav had said to him.
"Hōmu," Takumi replied.

Kzed report 14

The Leader has demonstrated some magic today. It was unique. He conjured fire from no where, and used it to blast through an oak tree.
According to him, the magic is performed by drawing the energy of the cosmos into ones body, then releasing it. However, a focus is needed in order to cast certain spells. The focus allows a sorcerer to convert cosmic energy into other energies. Fire, lightning, gravity, kinetic force... the possibilities with it are practically endless.
The focus he uses is a sword made of steel that was altered by one of the great old ones. I don't fully understand the nature of focuses, but the Leader says I will learn of it later.
He had promised to secure me my own focus some day, but I have a lot of learning to do before then. I'm going to give my all to my research. I wish to prove myself to him.

One; Masquerade

Alan sat on top of a roof in Los Angeles, overlooking the neighborhood. One of his legs hung over the ledge while the other was upright so that he could rest an arm on his knee. It was a quiet night. Seemingly peaceful. Most people would enjoy a night like this. Not much violence, little traffic, and almost no crimes occurring. But to Alan it felt... empty. There was nothing for him to do. Brushing his long bangs out from in front of his mask, he let out a long sigh.
The cloak Alan had on twitched. It was no ordinary garment. The thick brown cape hung all the way down to his feet while he was standing upright. Right now, the ends of the cloak were bunched up around his waist. Instead of straps or strings to tie around his neck like most cloaks would have, this one had a pair of greenish-gray tentacles, wrapped around each other for security. And then there was the hood. At its top was a tuft of black hair, and beneath it were a pair of eyes, which had opened up at the sound of Alan's exhalation. The closed mouth, full of jutting fangs, which bordered the edge of the hood, parted briefly and let out a soft grumbling sound.
"It's quiet tonight," Alan said. He could understand what the cloak had said, even if had come out as a simple noise. "Nothing to do."
The cloak grumbled again, this time for a little longer than before.
Alan chuckled. "Don't get me wrong," he said. "I like that things are peaceful. No one getting hurt that I know of. I just wish peace didn't have to be boring."
The cloak grumbled again, and Alan stood.
"All right, Akro Tirio," Alan said. "What do you say we do some quick patrol before calling it a night?"
The cloak grumbled again, and Alan stepped off the edge of the building. As he dropped to the ground, the long cape of his cloak split apart, quickly changing its form until it was replaced by a pair of large, bat-like wings and four long tentacles, similar to the two smaller ones around Alan's neck. The wings stretched out, catching the air and slowing Alan's descent, until he landed safely on the ground. Then, in a mere moment, the wings and tentacles joined back together in the form of a cloak.
Alan turned on his heel and walked down an alleyway, glancing over his shoulder to be sure he wasn't being followed.
"Think we're safe," Alan said. "Let's split."
In response to his words, the two tentacles around his neck untangled themselves. The long cape split once more into the large wings and tentacles, all sprouting from a fur covered, tear-drop shaped body. The hood inflated itself and bones formed inside of it. It quickly restructured itself into the shape of a human head, with the long mouth contracting to a smaller size while the hair became thicker and bushier. A pair of large ears flapped open on either side of the tuft. What had appeared to be a piece of clothing a couple seconds before, now looked monstrous.
"Looking good, Akro," Alan said.
The creature let out a low growl in response.
"All right," Alan said. "Let's meet here in an hour. If I find anything before then, I'll let you know. Okay, Akro Tirio?"
The strange being, Akro Tirio, nodded once before flying off. Its movements were an odd cross between a bird flying and an octopus swimming. After Akro left, Alan double checked to be sure he was alone before unzipping the satchel at his side. He pulled out a blue hooded jacket and slipped it on.  He then removed the mask from his face.
The mask had originally been a masquerade ball mask, which Alan had modified. It was dark gray with black edges, and had been fitted with special lenses. The lenses were the same stuff that two way mirrors were made of, so that he could see through them while he wore the mask, but anyone trying to get a look at his eyes would only see their own reflection. The mask had no strap. Instead, the inside was coated with a special adhesive that secured it to his face, but could be easily peeled off when he didn't need it on.
Alan hung the mask on a hook on the inside of his coat, then preceded to remove the steel knuckles that he had on. He slipped them up his sleeves and hung them on the hooks inside. He them zipped up his satchel and exited the alleyway from the other side.
For the past four years, Alan had been living in LA, where he had taken to fighting criminals. Of course, what had originally been him trying to keep people safe had escalated out of control about a year and a half ago, when he got on the bad side of an ancient cult. He could recall every detail of the occurrence, even after all this time, but he didn't like to. It wasn't pretty.
It was the first time Alan had encountered magic. He had always thought of it as myth before, but after witnessing the things that cult did, he started to believe. And it was at that ceremony that he came into possession of Eston. At least, Eston was what he called it. It was a notebook. One of the small ones that could fit into a large enough pocket. The word "Eston" was written on the books cover in silver ink, so that was what he called it.
Eston was filled from front to back with information about the "Old Ones". Ancient deities so powerful that humans might as well be crickets in their presence. Eston had a ton of information on them, and Alan had read every word of it, over and over again. The text was imprinted in his head, along with the other secrets the book contained. Aside from the information on the Old Ones, Eston also contained instructions. Knowledge of how to cast a number of spells and rituals, by harnessing the raw power of the cosmos, or by receiving the blessing of the Old Ones.
Alan had used a few of them before. Well, more than a few. Out of all the spells and rituals Eston contained, Alan had used fourteen. The first time had just been an experiment, so he could prove to himself that magic really was possible, and that the cult incident hadn't just been a nightmare. And after using that one spell, his life had changed forever. The ritual was a simple temperature reduction spell, used to cool the surrounding area. The name of the spell was Itinius Maltiore, or Frozen Area, in the language Alan didn't fully understand, and it required the blessing of an Old One who had control over coldness.
In this case, Alan had chosen to pray to Ithaqua, the Wind Walker. He could still remember when the great deity had appeared before him from out of thin air. A huge man, with hooved feet and a broken mask covering most of his face. It hadn't been Ithaqua's true form, but it was terrifying none-the-less. And that first encounter with and Old One had lead to more. Alan had found himself dragged into a whole new world of supernatural power and cosmic horrors.
He was forced to use more and more of Eston's spells as the situations called for them. And strangely, the order he used them in was always the order they were written down in the book. He didn't do them in that order by choice. It just so happened that whenever a situation occurred that required him to perform a spell he'd never used before, the next spell in the book was always the most appropriate at the time.
As he continued dealing with the crazy cultists and eldritch monsters that had now become a part of his life, Alan realized he couldn't fight on his own. He needed help. He needed a friend. A partner. And so he created one. Using one of Eston's rituals, Alan was able to receive the blessing of the fertility goddess, Shub Niggurath. He was able to create his greatest ally. A man-made servant. A thoughtform.
A Shoggoth.
Akro Tirio had been created through that ritual ten months ago, and had since been assisting Alan with his crime fighting. The two made an impressive team. Akro Tirio was created to compliment Alan's strengths and cover his weaknesses. A perfect partner.
Alan stopped walking and leaned against a streetlamp. His balance was slipping and his vision began to blur. A vertigo attack. Alan had been suffering from them his entire life. They usually weren't that serious, but they did have a tenancy to interfere with his vigilante-ism. He slumped to the ground and tried to clear his head. It took a couple minutes, but his vision eventually returned to normal.
He remained sitting for a while, enjoying the crisp night air. The cool night was refreshing, and the wind blowing through his shoulder length hair felt nice. He felt as though he could just fall asleep right there.
Of course, his break was interrupted by a loud BOOM in the distance. He jumped to his feet and looked in the direction the noise had come from. He could see smoke over the rooftops. A fire!
"Akro Tirio!" Alan called, as he ran off toward the smoke. When he was almost halfway there, he heard the sound of wings flapping above him. He looked up to see Akro Tirio flying there.
The two of them rounded a corner together to see a three story boarding house up in flames. A group of people were standing at the street, panicking. They hadn't noticed Alan yet. He could hear sirens in the distance. The firemen were on their way, but it would take them some time. Time that Alan intended to buy for them.
Alan ducked behind a parked minivan and put his mask on, then shrugged off his coat, slipping his fingers into his steel knuckles as he did so. Akro Tirio let out a low, concerned growling noise.
"You know how I am about fires, Akro," Alan said, as he shoved his jacket into his bag. "I can't just stand there and let these people burn."
Akro Tirio grunted in acknowledgement, then flew up behind Alan. Akro Tirio's head flattened once more into a hood, covering up the top of Alan's head while his shorter tentacles wrapped themselves together to secure himself in place. Akro Tirio's wings flapped strongly, lifting Alan off the ground.
The two of them flew quickly toward a second floor window. Alan made a short attempt at opening it, then gave up and simply smashed through the glass with his knuckles. He dropped down inside the burning hallway, as Akro Tirio's tentacles and wings merged into a cape..
"Anyone in here!?" Allan called out.
"Over here!" came a response.
There was a young girl, about thirteen or fourteen, standing in one of the doorways. Beyond her was the staircase, one flight going up, another going down. Smoke was billowing upwards from bellow. The fire must have been worse on the bottom floor. Alan decided it would be safer to fly her down from the window as he approached her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I don't know," the girl said. "My mom's upstairs. I don't know if she's okay or not."
"Shit...," Alan muttered to himself, glancing at the stairway. "Akro, take her out the window and get her safely to the ground. I'm going after her mom."
Akro immediately shifted into its bat-like form, and the girl screamed.
"It's okay," Alan said reassuringly. "Akro here is a friend of mine. He's not a bad guy. He's gonna help."
"Are you sure?" the girl asked, gazing up in horror at the flying creature before her.
"You read Twilight?" Alan asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Well, stop that!" he said. "Those books are stupid! But if a hormonal teenager like Bella can love a vampire, then you can trust my creepy bat-squid-thing. Okay?"
"Okay," she said.
"Akro won't hurt you," Allan said. "Now go. You can trust him."
The young girl reluctantly went down the hallway and allowed Akro Tirio to carry her out the window. Alan got to his feet and ran toward the stairs. Before he could reach them, the floor in front of him exploded. He fell backwards and a creature rose from the gaping hole in the floor the explosion had left.
The creature was almost human, in shape anyway. It had glowing red skin, and spiky gray hair. It had three arms; two on its right side and one on its left, and its legs were reminiscent of a velociraptor. The monster stared down at Alan with its smoldering red eyes, and flames swirled around its body.
"STATE YOUR NAME, UGLY HUMAN!" it demanded.
"You think I'm ugly?" Alan asked.
"What is your name!?" the monster repeated loudly.
"My name is Alan Lance Peredur," Alan said. "And I take it your a C'hagian, right? I've read about you freaks."
"YOU ARE THE SORCERER ALAN PEREDUR?" the creature said, ignoring the rest of what Alan had said. "LORD C'THUGHA WILL REWARD ME GREATLY WHEN I DELIVER TO HIM YOUR HEAD!"
The creature raised a hand, and a large ball of fire appeared in its grip. Without a word, it tossed the flaming orb at Alan, you barely dodged it.
"C'thugha?" Alan asked. "You mean the flame deity? Why the fuck does he want me dead?"
"SILENCE!" the monster yelled, before inhaling.
Smoke began billowing from its mouth. Alan knew what came next. The creature was sucking up oxygen in order to breath fire. The beast tilted its head toward Alan and let the stream of flames pour out, engulfing Alan. Satisfied, the monster stopped spitting flames and waited for the smoke to clear so it could see its handiwork. But what it saw wasn't a charred corpse. Instead, he saw Alan standing there, wrapped up tightly in Akro Tiro's cloak form.
"Nice timing, as usual," Alan said. "Sorry flamey, but my friend here is fireproof!"
Alan tossed the cape behind him, and it shifted forms immediately into the wings and tentacles. Alan kicked off the floor and allowed Akro Tirio to carry him quickly to the creature. He pulled his fist back and then shot it forward so that his steel knuckles collided heavily with the monster's jaw. Alan immediately pulled his arm back and had Akro fly him back a few feet.
"Ow! Fuck!" Alan exclaimed, rubbing his hand. "Note to self; don't punch fire monsters!"
The creature outstretched its arms, and its fingernails grew into long claws.
"I'LL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!" it bellowed.
"I'd like to see you try!" Alan said.
The monster backed up a bit to get a running start, then charged at Alan. Alan grabbed one of Akro Tirio's tentacles, and the two small ones holding the shoggoth in place released themselves, and Alan swung the mass of wings and tentacles at the monster as it charged at him.
The two passed each other, so that they were back to back, and the monster fell to its knees, with one of its three hands clutching its chest. There was a new wound there, and from it was dripping magma-like blood. It looked over its shoulder to see Alan standing there, with a long, black bladed sword in his hand, with an intricate hand guard on it.
"WH- WHAT IS THIS!?" it demanded.
"Surprised?" Alan said. "This is Akro's special power. The ability to shape shift into weapons. Did you really think you could handle yourself against the most versatile Shoggoth in the world?"
"I'LL DESTROY YOU!" the monster yelled. It jumped back toward the window to put some space between them, and spread out its three arms. A ball of flames appeared in each hand, and it grinned cruelly at Alan, exposing its yellow, crystalline teeth. "PREPARE TO DIE!"
"Yeah, I don't think so," Alan said.
Akro Tirio's form changed once again, and the sword morphed into a long barreled handgun, which Alan aimed at the monster's chest. He pulled the trigger five times, each shot hitting the creature. It screamed in pain, and the fireballs it was preparing vanished. Before Alan could take another shot, the creature sprouted a pair of fiery wings and jumped out the window. Before Alan could follow after it, the ceiling between him and the window collapsed.
"Well, ain't that just my luck," Alan said.
There was a a scream above them, and Alan turned to the stairs. The fire was spreading, and there was still the hole in the floor there. And even if Alan did get across it, the stairs were now completely consumed by flames. He couldn't get to the third floor like this.
Without hesitating, Alan pulled a sharpie from his pocket and drew a strange symbol on the wall. The alien symbol of Shub Niggurath. Alan really didn't want to owe her any more favors, but he was in a tight spot and needed her help. He drew back his fist ad slammed his knuckles into the symbol while shouting the words "Aroitia Fermalus!"
Immediately, Alan felt a connection to the Great Old One.
"Ah, yes, Alan Peredur," said the voice of the Black Goat Of The Woods inside his head. "I've been expecting you to contact me again."
"Um, hey Shub Niggurath," Alan said. "I'm in a bit of a jam right now. Do you think you could-"
"Dispel the flames?" she finished for him. "Yes, I figured that's what you would want."
"And there's one more things," Alan said. "But first, the fire. I would really appreciate it if you-"
"Yes, yes, I'm on it," she replied.
In an instant the flames vanished. Alan breathed a sigh of relief, which was cut short as his vision blurred. Another vertigo attack. He lost his balance and fell backwards, breaking contact with the symbol. He hit the floor, and Akro Tirio shifted into its true form to try and help Alan back up.
As Alan's vision finally cleared, he became aware of a woman standing over him. He held his breath, and hoped it was just the girls mother from upstairs. But when he looked up, he saw that it wasn't.
The woman had long, pitch black hair, flowing down to her waist. Where her feet should have been were a pair of black goat hooves. Her skin was a light tan, and she was dressed up in tight brown pants and a shirt that exposed her  midriff, with a short yellow coat over it. A pair of short horns  grew from her forehead, and she lacked a mouth or nose. Her eyes were plain white, with no irises or pupils in them. But despite all the strange features, the part of her that truly caught Alan's eye was the symbol on her stomach. The same symbol he had drawn on the wall. The woman standing before him was Shub Niggurath herself.
Of course she had come, Alan realized. He had broken contact with the symbol, which severed their telepathic link. She'd have to show up to hear what else he needed to ask her for. Of course, she just HAD to show up in that weird almost human form. Alan had never seen her true form, and frankly, he didn't want to. She had the power to take any form she wanted. If she wanted to, she could look entirely human, but she chose not to, preferring this form. For some reason, the fact that she had the power to appear human, but never did, scared the crap out of Alan.
"So, what else do you need?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.
"I need to find someone," he said. Then he added "A servant of C'thugha."
"Oh!" she said, seemingly delighted, although her blank eyes gave away no emotions. "I do believe I can help with that!"

***30 minutes later***

The C'hagian landed inside an old park, and sat down. Its blood was beginning to harden, sealing its wounds shut, but it needed more time to recover. As it waited patiently for its body to repair itself, its head jerked when the sound of one of the swing sets broke the silence. Alan was there, swinging back and forth casually.
"I've missed these things!" Alan said, jumping off and landing in the sand before the creature.
"HOW DID YOU CATCH UP TO ME!?" it demanded.
"I'm the best there is at what I do," Alan said. "Simple as that."
"AND WHAT IS IT THAT YOU DO?" the beast asked.
"Um...," Alan said, scratching his head. "You know... I do... things... that involve... um... magic and shoggoths and... stuff..."
"YOU'RE AN IDIOT," the C'hagian said.
"And you're hot!" Alan barked back. "Literally!"
"YOU'RE NOT GOOD AT COMEBACKS, ARE YOU?" the creature asked.
"For the love of crap, would you stop shouting!?" Alan said.
"WHAT YOU MEAN SHOUTING?" the monster said. "THIS IS MY NORMAL VOICE!"
"You're normal voice sucks!" Alan said.
"ENOUGH OF THIS FOOLISHNESS!" the beast said. "LET'S END THIS! I'LL DESTROY YOU WITH MY MOST POWERFUL ATTACK!"
"Okay," Alan said. "I'll play your game. Your best attack versus mine. Last man standing wins."
"YOU THINK YOU HAVE A CHANCE?" the monster said.
"Sure do," Alan said.
Alan reached down to his belt, where he had five handgun bullets. He pulled one of them out and flipped it high into the air, like a coin. Akro quickly flew off his back and shifted into his gun form. Allan grabbed the handle and opened gun up to load it, like a rifle. He caught the bullet as it fell back down and slid it into the magazine before snapping the gun closed.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Alan said jokingly.
"I THOUGHT YOUR SHOGGOTH COULD PRODUCE ITS OWN AMMUNITION," the C'hagian said, as it raised all of its hands and began building up power for a massive fireball.
"These bullets are special," Alan said, as the gun was consumed in green flames. "You see, I go to the Dreamlands quite frequently. One time when I went there, I had a nasty encounter with Hagarg Ryonis. I managed to escape with both my life and a piece of one of his teeth that I chipped."
"SO WHAT DOS THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?" the beast said, as its great ball of fire grew larger.
"Well, you see, I wasn't just gonna let that tooth fragment go to waste," Alan said. "I used a power transfer spell to drain the energy from that tooth and put it into these five bullets. Honestly, I've never used one before. Kinda looking forward to seeing what happens."
"IT WILL NOT HELP YOU," the monster said. "MY FLAMES WILL BURN YOU TO DEATH!"
"Yeah, whatever," Alan said.
"ARE YOU NOT AFRAID!?" the creature demanded. "ALL UGLY HUMANS FEAR FLAMES!"
Alan just laughed at that, then said "Pala Kierto."
Alan's appearance shifted drastically. His hair became much shorter, and turned a mahogany-red color. Viscous looking burns appeared all over his body, even his clothe. One had appeared right where his right ear should have been.
"WHAT IS THIS FORM YOU HAVE TAKEN?" the monster demanded, both fascinated and horrified.
"When people enter the dreamlands, they change their form to reflect how they truly want to be. The Subform spell allows one to take their Dreamland form for thirty seconds while in the real world. This is mine. This is how I want to be."
The monster's fireball had  reached its maximum size, but the beast did nothing, still transfixed by Alan's transformation.
"Tell me," Alan said, removing his mask to reveal his disfigured face, with his blue eyes which had previously been brown. "Do I look like a man who's afraid to get burned?"
Alan raised the barrel of his gun, and the monster remembered what was going on. Without a second thought, it hurled the giant ball of flame at Alan.
"I learned this trick from Devil May Cry 4!" Alan declared, firing the bullet straight into the ball of flames.
The bullet tore through the fireball, causing it to disperse into embers as the bullet continued flying, hitting the monster in the chest. The wound glowed green for a moment, before the monster fell to the ground, writhing in agony. The green light spread throughout its entire body. Its arms and legs began dissolving rapidly, and before the monster could utter its final words, it exploded in a blast of green and red light.
"Damn," Alan said, as his Subform spell wore off and he returned to his normal form. "That was intense."
Akro Tirio returned to his true form and hovered in front of Alan, watching him closely.
"I think I'll save the rest of those bullets for an emergency...," Alan said.
Without warning, Akro Tirio shoved one of his tentacles into Alan's mouth and down his throat. Alan gagged hard, and his vision started blurring again.
Damn it! Alan thought. This is not the time for the vertigo thing!
Akro Tirio yanked his tentacle out of Alan's mouth, and he could finally breath.
"Damn it, Akro!" Allan gasped. "This is not a hentai! You can't just shove those things down peoples-" but he stopped in mid sentence when he noticed the small glowing thing in Akro Tirio's tentacle. "Hello," Allan said, reaching for it. "What's this?"
He took the warm red object in his hand and rolled it around for a minute.
"That fucking flame thing shoved this in me back at the burning building...," Alan said. "It's like... a seed or something."
Akro growled in agreement.
"Okay, I guess you saved me," Alan said. "But next time, warn me."
Alan pondered for a little while longer while examining the seed.
"Hey Akro," he said. "Wanna see a power transfer spell?"

***end chapter 1***

Kzed report 24

I'm continuing my research into Shoggoths. My colleague, Hikomo, has succeeded in creating a rather interesting one.
Through watching them, I have learned some interesting things regarding the nature and inherent abilities of shoggoths.
For one, it seems that a shoggoth's sleeps patterns are synced to their creators. When a shoggoth's master goes to sleep, so does the shoggoth. This is mere speculation, as Hikomo and his shoggoth are the only research specimens I have right now. I'll have to broaden my horizons to see if this in true in the cases of all shoggoths.
Also, Hikomo informs me that his shoggoth enters the Dreamlands with him. I assume, for now, that this is because of the linked sleep patterns.
Another thing I've come to notice is that when Hikomo says his shoggoths name, it will arrive a short while later. I've done experiments regarding this, with Hikomo's assistance, of course. Hikomo will ask his shoggoth to wait somewhere, while I go with him to distant locations. He then calls his shoggoth, and it comes. I believe that a shoggoth may be able to hear its master's call from any distance. Theoretically, anyway. I've yet to explore the full nature of this. I know the distance is at least 108 miles. I'll carry on these experiments for as long as I can.
I also believe that a shoggoth can only be understood by its master. I often see Hikomo communicating with his shoggoth, but I only hear half of the conversation. Perhaps other shoggoths might be able to understand each other, but I'm not entirely sure. This warrants further research.