The Devinity of CTHULU

All praise the great Cthulu; it who was before, is now and will forever be. You are but specs of dust before mighty Cthulu…but before Cthulu blesses you by tearing your soul to shreds…lets see what you got, bring it-Lovecraft style.

Our story begins . . .

The Wheel of Time turns, and ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the age that gave it birth comes again.

It is late autumn in 1924. The brilliant foliage of New England has already faded and the trees are bare and skeletal looking. The Indian Summer was brief and unsatisfying and the icy claws of the north winds have already been making lustful grasps at the land. The personal infidelities and multiple charges of corruption have left a bitter taste in the American public’s mouth after the sudden death of President Harding. The political scandals have overshadowed the recovery from the post-war recession. Prohibition is enforced enough that gangs and organized crime build their empires through the sale of illegal alcohol. The membership of the KKK is at its highest in history and intolerance and suspicion are sown across the country.

The Jazz Age rebels against conventional norms and the Flappers of the day push the boundaries of polite society. Speakeasies abound, some supported by local authorities…it is an unsettled time. What everyone needs is a little party: some friends, a few drinks, a little jazz music and…a mysterious benefactor.

Cthulhu Redux (Masks of Nyarlathotep)

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