Father Cole O’Donnelly, priest from Boston and now agent of Templar Order (kind of?).
We’re playing Masks of Nyarlathotep and Cole learned Bless spell from the pope, killed one of Nyarlathotep’s masks and survived weird trials of the templar order.
Hey! Here is mah boi for Call of Cthulhu campaign. My brain is rotting again so i want everyone to know about him
His name is James he's a writer and a "good friend" of Jackson Elias :)
My friends and I have been playing Masks of Nyarlathotep and I was absolutely inspired to draw some 1920s investigators. I'm very fond of this squad and I love how well we've all gelled as a group.
l-r Perry Astor, Sergeant Pranit Singh Dhillon, Dr Leonard Winston, Françoise Pelletier and Edith Collins.
This blade is part of a set of identical daggers which have been welded by some of the most cold-blooded members of the bloody tongue cult. The blade itself is expertly carved from a strange unknown material which is unnaturally durable and gives off a crimson glow when in direct light. The handle is carved from a dark stained wood with a bronze guard and a signature red decorative cloth tied around the handle of the dagger close to the top.
They are kept in a warded and sealed ceremonial wooden box until they are needed.
The daggers are cursed by unknowable forces from beyond, giving them a menacing aura to be in the vicinity of. Those who have low constitution and/or little to no resistance to the outer influence of the Bloody Tongue meet a fate of extreme blood frenzy upon contact with the handle and an unwillingness to let go of it before they are consumed and began killing indiscriminately with the end result being near permanent sanity loss.
Often enough, cults who have been in possession of the twin daggers in the past have used them for mass ritualistic sacrifice, a heated battle or a particularly cruel assassination. An elite member of the cult is chosen to wield them and undergoes a ritual to see if they can handle them, if they fall victim to the curse they are dealt with accordingly. It’s because of this that only a handful of skilled combatants have been deemed ‘worthy enough’ to wield them without little repercussion until their death.
(Just a lil thing I’ve been working on that’s Call of Cthulhu related.)
like what are you supposed to do when the crawling chaos says it's happy to see you
(the answer is take 93 temporary sanity damage and be rendered catatonic for 13 hours while your friends try to force feed you questionable 1920s medicine)
Detective Alton Snyder from Boston, the man, the legend.
He struck a deal with Nyarlathotep to save his friends from Gla'aki and sacrificed his arm (that’s now mummified) and partially his sight. Cole once lost a lot of sanity points staring into his eyes and seeing Azathoth in them.
We hear the drums echoing tonight
We speaks only whispers to avoid detection
It's coming in, on July 21th 1925
Its moonlit wings reflect those stars that guide towards annihilation
We stops at the entrance near the top
Hoping to find some old forgotten clue to stop this blasphemy
It turned to us as if to say
"Hurry, boy, my son's waiting there for you"
[Chorus]
You're gonna take a lot from us and drag us up to you
There's nothing that ten thousand men or more could ever do
I curse the coming of your offspring tonight
Gonna see the Bloody tong take offerings on the Mountain of the Black Wind (Ooh)
/* Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook - Porte-mine sur carnet A6 */
/* Parody of Africa by Toto (c) Jeff Porcaro & David Paich */
/* Masks of Nyarlathotep is a Chaosium RPG campaign for Call of Cthulhu designed by Larry DiTillio Lynn Willis */
/* I'm sorry */
Au loin les tambours résonnent fortement ce soir
Nous ne parlons qu'en chuchotant pour ne pas être repérés
Il arrive, en ce 21 juillet 1925.
Ses ailes éclairées de lune reflètent ces étoiles qui nous guident vers le néant
Nous sommes près de l'entrée secrete du sommet
espérant trouver un indice oublié pour empêcher ce blasphème.
Il s'est tourné vers nous comme s'il disait
"Dépêche-toi, mon garçon, mon fils t'attend là-bas".
[Chorus]
Tu vas nous prendre beaucoup et nous traîner jusqu'à toi
Il n'y a rien que dix mille hommes ou plus ne puissent faire.
Je maudis l'arrivée de ta progéniture ce soir.
Ce soir la langue Sanglante accepte les offrandes sur la Montagne du Vent Noir (Ooh).