Mordecai was my PC for the Doc Lully’s Pulp Heros segment of this session. He was half-human, half-something else, a subject of great angst for him. Of course, he had a noble heart, despite his self-doubts.
I write this missive to the brother whom I shall never know, for Mordecai has no brother — and yet I write, compelled by my humanity to chronicle my inhumanity, and to speak of the horrendous subterranean sights which I and my band of comrades have seen. We may never return to the surface of the Earth, but some future explorer will find these words and know that Doc Lully’s band of adventurers and madmen walked the shores of the seas that lie beneath the world of men.
Men! Would that I might count myself among their number; yet the reptilian blood of the Nephilim runs in my veins, and always shall it set me apart from the madding crowd. I am fortunate to have known the friendship of my companions, for there are no better companions above or below.
It was Doc Lully himself who led us, down through that cave complex in the mountains known as the Ozarks. The mysterious Agent Pyramid was the man who finally vanquished the Nome King with his twin guns: their muzzles spit fire into the stony form of the monstrous beast, until it was forced back. Pip made one of her light-hearted quips, impenetrable in meaning to any but a fellow engineer, and we pressed on into the darkness.
It was Commander Sam Collier who put a name to the tunnels we found there; before he told us of certain occult South Seas legends we had no words to express our trepidation, but the brave aeronaut gave the Lightless Tunnels of Tsathoggua a name, and that which is named cannot be as fearful as the nameless horrors which crowd beyond our vision. His words did not save us from the battle with Tsathoggua’s toad-creatures, but we smiled as we slew.
It was in the Spawning Caves of the Sub-Arachnoids that we lost — but no! no, I will not speak of it, for even now in the hour of our greatest danger I cannot bear to speak his name. Let these words be a silent tribute to he who fell saving our lives from the ghastly albino scuttling spider creatures with their clickety-clackety claws. Some stories strike too close to the heart, but wherever that brave man’s soul now resides, I pray that he will know we pray for him.
And finally, we came to the Emerald City of Yaktavia, built by the dread Lemurians in the millenia before men knew of cities. My alien heart beat faster, for there was that in the strange architecture of the city’s spires that rang with insistant familiarity in my mind. Could this lost green city hold the key to my heritage? Almost, almost I lost my footing amid a rush of speculation, before my true friend Achilles Tang touched my shoulder and silently reminded me of our purpose.
We entered that city, unafraid, knowing that our uncanny purpose would carry us to victory as it had so many times before. Little did we know of the fell leader of that city, the philosopher tyrant Bry An — but our lack of knowledge would be remedied far too soon!
The cryptic beings known as the Tero greeted us as we entered the Emerald City, with gesticulations and sounds of a disturbing nature. It has never been said that Doc Lully’s band of heros sought out violence, and despite my hunger for blood and the pure catharsis that only battle brings, we held our weapons at our sides. They led us to Bry An’s chambers, and we followed.
Bry An was a grotesque figure, dressed in ill-fitting silver robes and carrying a tuning fork matching those far larger tuning forks which adorned his savage city. His words were as unwise as his garb, for he claimed that once arriving in the city we must not be allowed to leave. No man stands in the path of Mordecai and his comrades! This Bry An dangled a gilt honor, hoping that it might distract us from our mission; he claimed that we were Invisible Ascended Masters. Ah, but I know my blood too well! No half-breed such as I could be among the ruling caste, did I even believe that there are those who are born to rule.
And he babbled on further, speaking of orgone energy; if one could believe the ravings of a madman, then his mighty orgone guns were the source of all good energy in the land above, unbeknownst to those who live their lives in peace. Futile claims, to those who so well know the heroism of the human spirit: man needs no orgone rays, no secret transmissions, to guide him to the light.
We fought, then, despite Bry An’s futile protestations! He spoke of one known as Greer, who led the dark counterparts of the Tero, the Dero, purporting that this Greer threatened us even then. It was of no moment to us, though, for we fought for the freedom to depart the sunken subterranean realm. Agent Pyramid bravely entered Bry An’s mind, seeking the truth which no man can hide from the Master of the Powers of the Mind, and as sure as the Sun and the Moon chase one another around our humble Earth, he found naught but treachery. Commander Collier seized upon Bry An, holding him back from his malevolent intent. Doc Lully showed his kind heart, urging us to listen to Bry An further, lest there be some measure of merit in his words, but we would have no further dealings with the subterranean mastermind.
We fought! And then it was that some small part of Bry An’s lies proved true, as Greer’s flying saucers erupted from pustules in every wall of the vast cavern which housed the forbidden City of Emerald. But my comrades and I are no strangers to the shaky ground that lies between two rival armies. As the saucers rose like birds hatching from decaying eggs, I raised my voice with all the power of my inhuman father, commanding the Tero to fight on my behalf — though it sickened me to draw upon that which is all that is dark in my soul, my love for my comrades allowed me no other course of action.
They fought, and I seized upon the orgone guns of Bry An, lifting one from its place on the battlements. I noticed, in a moment of sanity before I began to fire, that Pip had crept away, and I was glad, for I knew that one of us must escape to tell the tale. Oh, how the rest of us battled! Achilles, drawing upon his heritage and his lifelong training in the arts of the Oriental martial disciplines, leaped onto one of the saucers; Commander Collier, never uncertain, took wing and flew into the sky to grapple with the dreaded Dero on their own ground. Agent Pyramid, in constant telepathic contact with little Pip, nonetheless stood his ground and fired away with his twin guns, bringers of doom to so many who stood against the forces of justice.
My orgone gun spat blue energy among the saucers as Achilles and Commander Collier wove a web of death in the sky. In the dark corridors beneath our feet, Pip frantically rewired the controls of the gigantic orgone gun with which Bry An menaced the surface world. Perhaps he had influenced we surface dwellers, if not for the better, but this band of determined heros would see the end of Bry An’s reign of evil.
And then it was, on Agent Pyramid’s command, as I stood laughing amid the bodies of slaughtered Teros, that Pip activated the orgone ray in ways Bry An could never have imagined. She told us, later, that a horde of fearful beasts — Deros? — came to help her in her task, a mystery which may never be unraveled. But she accepted their aid, and activated the ray, despite the certain knowledge that it might cost us our lives, for such is the burden of those who hold high the noble cause.
The Dolorous Tone rung, like a bell speaking the time of the world’s end. All movement ceased. None breathed — and then he stood, but no, say rather HE stood, for a being of such size must rightfully be written of in letters ten feet long.
Mu, the Last Lemurian, stood. And all grew dark.
Your inhuman brother,