The Xothic Legend Cycle

The Red Offering by Lin Carter

NOTE: The narrative which follows is an extract from the disturbing and debatable Zanthu Tablets, a brochure published at San Francisco in 1916 by the late Professor Harold Hadley Copeland, consisting of his shocking and conjectural translation from the primal Naacal of certain inscribed stone records found in the tomb of a prehistoric shaman by the survivor of the ill-fated Copeland-Ellington expedition to Central Asia (1916).

The narrative is taken from Tablet VII, Side 1, Lines 12 through 148.

FROM my earliest youth, I, Zanthu, had considered myself a devotee of mighty Ythogtha, the Abomination in the Abyss, and even dared aspire to the highest position in what remnants remained of the cult of that Dark Divinity, in whose service the founders of my house had prospered and had waxed prestigious in the land of G’thuu, northernmost of the nine realms into which the continent of Mu was divided. Even in these sorry latter days when the cult of Ythogtha had sadly lapsed into desuetude, while that of the detestable Ghatanothoa waxed mighty in the land, I persevered in my determination to achieve the hierophantic throne itself.

My ambition was fostered by certain apparitions or locutions which visited my slumbers during those nights when the Moon is absent from the skies and it has been of old the wont of Ythogtha to trouble the dreams of men. It is not given to human hands to set down in words the Indescribable, so suffice it to say that more than once in my youth a Shape of Darkness rose up within my sleeping brain and I heard a Voice vast and echoing, yet fainter than a whisper, which repeated over and over these menacing and enigmatic words, whose meaning I was not to unriddle for many years:

You must make the Red Offering.

You must make the Red Offering.

You must make the Red Offering.

But more on this enigma which haunted my youthful dreams I will later speak.

Now, the last high priest of my order had perished untold centuries ago, a victim to the unrelenting persecutions which the worshipers of the Monster on the Mount visited upon the rival cults whose very existence they deemed a challenge to their theological supremacy. The hierophantic throne thus vacant, with no contender daring to exert his claim thereunto, my path seemed clear: but into such neglect and disarray had the cult of Ythogtha fallen, I knew nor by what unequivocal authority to bolster my claim.

Now, most precious and sacrosanct among the thaumaturgical treasures of Mu was that immemorial and long-lost talisman known to men as the Black Seal. It had of old been the most prized possession of the elder conjurer Iraan, for upon that mystery-fraught sigil were inscribed the Seven Lost Signs of Terror, which hold power coercive of any Dweller in the cosmos or in the unknowable and nameless regions beyond. Were I to secure into my possession the Black Seal of Iraan, the hierophantic throne would be mine, for I could then summon the Presence of the god himself to ratify my claim.

THUS it came to pass that, my tutelage under the wise H’mog complete, I rose up and, together with my younger brother Kuth, departed from the land of my birth and eloigned into those southern lands once frequented by the potent conjurer. In truth, we made an odd, ill-marched pair, my brother and myself, for I was unprepossessing of appearance, while Kuth was tall and fair of face, and desirable to women, whereas I was not. Neither were we the best of friends, for Kuth had won the heart of the maiden Yeena, for whom I lusted above all of the young women of G’thuu; nonetheless, I required the strength and courage of my brother Kuth to see us through the innumerable vicissitudes of our long journey, which was beset with perils, while he wished to wallow in the wine shops of the southern cities, and to enjoy the embrace of women.

We passed the onyx sea cliffs of Kho, the sandy wastes of Ylagh, where we went with care ever wary of the frightful Noogs. Entering into the central eastern province of Ghua, we skirted the dark tarn of Kyagoph and avoided chose ill-rumored mountains that hide the bottomless well of Yuguggon. In the fullness of time we passed through the Black Wood and came to the Hills of Ninghom at the Hour of the Singing of the Green Vapour, and stood upon the heights thereof and gazed down for a time upon the squat and monolithic turrets of Agkul-Dho.

From this ancient city are ruled the lands of the southeast, among them Yish and Knan, and in this old metropolis standeth yet the eldermost upon Earth of all of the temples of Shub-Niggurath the Mighty Mother. Aye, it was forth from this very temple, ages before, that the rash T’yog ventured on the first steps of his fruitless quest to limit for all time to come the fearful power of Ghatanothoa.

Thus we came down to the ancient city and secured rooms in the hostelry, and while my tall brother swaggered forth to drown his thirst with wine and to sate less mentionable appetites with the flesh of dancing girls, I sought the archives of the temples. In the shrines of Nug and Yeb found I many rare tomes and treatises, but none that recorded aught of the history of the conjurer Iraan or of the Black Seal. But under the copper domes of Shub-Niggurath's temple, I discovered at length a copy of the Ygolh Records wherein that famous sorcerer, a disciple of Iraan, made revelation of many things nor heretofore known to me concerning the last days of his master, even unto the secret place of his burial, which was a tomb situated in the very midst of the Desolation of Voor. A dreadful excitement seized my heart as I perused the very words which revealed the secret for which I so long had sought:

Amidst the Desolation of Voor, in the land of Yish, there lies buried in a tomb of black marble, guarded by seven avenues of granite monsters, the mummy of wise Iraan, which guarderh for all time the Black Seal which the Outer Ones brought down from Yuggoth on the Rim before the first men walked the world, and thereon are recorded the Seven Lost Signs of Terror and the Words of Fear.

WITH trembling hands I reverently closed the covers of the Ygolh Records, which were bound between two plaques carven of the tlath wood which is sacred to the Mighty Mother. I rose up and went forth into the wilderness of Yish with my brother Kuth and a number of shambling Gyaa-Hua, the bestial submen we of Mu used in that time for slaves and servitors, and discovered at length the tomb. Many and fearful were the hazards which confronted us on that last journey, but at length it was done.

While our slaves, cowering and whimpering, pried timidly at the immense slab of black marble which shielded from the light of day the last resting-place of the conjurer Iraan, I tried to avert mine eyes from the dreadful signs and warnings cut deep into the stone by long-dead hands. After a time, my brother impatiently thrust aside the moaning Gyaa-Hua and tested the might of his strong arms and shoulders against that massive weight. Ere long it fell to the ground, shattering into seven great fragments against the pave, and the mummy was revealed.

A gaunt and desiccated thing it was, for many centuries had passed since last the face of Iraan had looked upon the day, but I cared naught for that, for there, clasped in bony talons against its naked ribs, the hands of the ancient conjurer clenched to its bosom the Black Seal of unknown metal brought down from the stars when the Earth was but newly formed.

A shrill wailing came from our slaves, where they huddled some distance away, for in truth had the sorcerer Ygoth warned that his dead master guarded for all time the Seal. Even as Kuth and I bent to wrest the Black Seal from its grasp, the dried lids of Iraan flew open and eyes of red fire glared awfully into our own. Those claw-like hands flew up to close about the very throat of Kuth, who gave voice to a cry of unutterable terror, and locked his own brawny hands about those skeletal wrists, striving to break their merciless grip.

Strong and young was my tall brother, but the withered horror in the tomb possessed preternatural vigor; his eyes popped, his tongue lolled, and his face blackened. He cast me an imploring look from eyes bright with terror. But the mummy had released the Seal in order to battle against the desecrators who had disturbed its rest, so I prudently snatched up the sigil and bore it to a place of safety amidst our baggage, some distance apart, where the hairy submen grovelled and whined. There I lingered for a little time, striving to master my fears and to still my labouring heart.

When I cautiously drew near the tomb again. Kuth was dead, crushed to gory ruin against the bony ribs of the mummy, whose crimson-soaked remains had already begun to crumble into dust beneath the merciless rays of the sun, and which was sustained no longer by that unnatural animation.

We hastily buried my brother’s corpse beneath the sands of Voor, and fled from that accursed place, returning to the city; and my heart was filled with a cruel and bitter joy: for I had made the Red Offering, and now the hierophantic throne was mine.

And so was the maiden Yeena ...