By Fantasy Flight Games Mean, morbid disposition—and a secret drinker if you could judge by the empty bottles in his rubbish heap. No wonder Tom Sprague hated him and blackballed him from the Masonic lodge, and warned him off when he tried to make up to Sophie. The way he experimented on animals was against…
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Horrific monsters and spectral presences lurk in manors, crypts, schools, monasteries, and derelict buildings near Arkham, Massachusetts. Some spin dark conspiracies from the shadows while others wait for hapless victims to devour. It’s up to a handful of brave investigators to explore these cursed places and uncover the truth about the living nightmares within.
Their world is forged of privilege, lubricated by money, and polished with the prerogatives of the upper crust, yet no depth where power might be found has gone unexplored. Human sacrifice, unnatural tortures, perverse and hedonistic practices… all are brought into the service of the Order’s relentless pursuit of power.
There’s a lot one could say on the occasion of the 120th anniversary of the birth of Howard Phillips Lovecraft, but the difficulty comes in finding something to say that others — or oneself — haven’t already said on similar occasions in the past. In some sense, that’s a testament to the huge debt we all owe the Old Gent: almost anything we say about him has already been said many times before, probably more eloquently and more originally than anything we can possibly say ourselves.
