>>1071728
I keep forgetting we could be OP with casual time travel.
Hey, if you survive, try hacking into the government and post eeeverything they have on Maudi Saurabia.
...What? A country that literally grinds up its ancestors' burial mounds and sells their liquified remains as exports totally deserves to be humiliated!

We could trade the blessed amulet to Sophia for the key.

Oh, right! Those passwords from the old '98 system. Okay, here's what have to do:

First put on some gloves from the kitchen.
Next, clean the keyboard thoroughly, make sure no tools or scraps fall inside.
Next, look at the screen, memorize each icono.
Then click the "X" at the top right and use the computer as usual. Thanks for cleaning the board.

Kaktus 2023/09/07(Thu)10:08 No. 1071921 ID: 681cb5
File 169410650913.png - (44.55KB , 700x550 , 27.png )

>We could trade the blessed amulet to Sophia for the key.
She might be willing to do that trade, yes… but you were supposed to give Chris the amulet, remember? Maybe you can just lend it to her for a bit, until you find a better solution? Hmm…

While you haven’t had the chance to use Doors98 for long, you do believe you’ve read somewhere that it is rather easy to circumvent. How did you do it again? Press the “?” first and… or was it the “X” button? Nevermind, you’ll start to guess a few passwords first before trying to hack your way in.

Let’s start with… tomorrow, as it seems to be such an important date what with all the “only two days remains” stuff. 10051998…
[The Doors password you typed is incorrect.]
Hmm… maybe with a few letters? OCT05 1998…
[The Doors password you typed is incorrect.]
...most important date? Maybe it’s our wedding day? 03261998…
[The Doors password you typed is incorrect.]
…MAR261998…
[The Doors password you typed is incorrect.]
…oh, right, Chris always writes the day first, like a European, what with most of his family still living over the pond. 26MAR1998…

With a small hum, the screen changes into the familiar desktop. You really need to add a background image, but you didn’t have the time before you came here. Now, let’s see…

Most of files are just the standard fare, with the exception of a folder titled University that’s filled with old work documents, as well as three odd document saved right to the desktop. While the university files aren’t that interesting, the out of place text files are worth investigating.


The first, which is named a bunch of gibberish, is filled to the brim with… more gibberish? Wait, no… there is a pattern here. You can spot some names… like Kråkholme, Crowmoor and Edward, but the rest is just a bunch of random letters. It might be written in another language, seeing as there’s a bunch weird letters in the text, but it’s impossible to tell seeing how it lacks both spaces and punctuations.

The second file, which is unnamed, says the following…
“I cannot sleep.

Or perhaps I should say: I must not sleep, since I am perfectly capable of sleep. In fact, lately sleep has come to me more easily, more quickly, and more insidiously than it ever has before. But I don't want to sleep.

I have been hoping that the terrible dreams would prove to be stress-related, that they would fade once the move was behind us and we had finally settled in, but that has not turned out to be the case. They're stronger than ever. Red-rimmed eyes pursuing me through strange corridors, and the voice, the whisperer who tells me I am not who I am. The whisperer tells me secrets of this house, secrets of those who lived here, they are my blood, and he tells me he always returns to his blood. He tells me of secret keys and combinations; I don't know what they open yet but I have an idea…

I must go down to the cellar and take the key, before venturing out to seek the house sheltering the machines. I must see if the things revealed to me in that terrible book are true, and if I can stop them.

I know she is worried about me. I want to tell her, but… I can’t… for her sake…”

Chris… what have you been up to, hubby?

Kaktus 2023/09/07(Thu)10:08 No. 1071922 ID: 681cb5
File 169410652002.png - (131.74KB , 700x550 , 28.png )

Finally, the last text file, labeled Family Tree, is exactly what it says it is… your husband’s family tree. Looking through it, you can see he has recently mapped out just how exactly he is related to Edward and the rest of the Kråkholme line. Apparently, Bövel’s father had a sister whose descendant, about 400 years later, had Chris. So, while they are related, Chris is not a direct descendant of Bövel or any other Kråkholm for that matter. Heck, Bövel came to America in the 1600s, while Chris Grandfather came here in the 1920s.

Going further into the document, you can see that he’s been looking into Bövel himself and the family branches that sprouts from him… though, removing all the daughters that didn’t bear offspring, it’s more of a line than anything. Let’s see…

Bövel Kråkholme (??? >>> 3-11-1651)
married Ingrid Kråkholme (8-13-1605 >>> 11-25-1634)
who had a daughter named Cristina Kråkholme (11-22-1634 >>> 4-8-1686)
Cristina then sired a son, Marius, with an unknown man.

Marius Kråkholme (3-11-1651 >>> 10-18-1734)
married Kärstin Kråkholme (3-13-1672>>> 11-25-1717)
who had a daughter named Malin Kråkholme (5-14-1717 >>> 1-26-1742)
Malin then sired a son, Sigmund, with an unknown man.

Sigmund Kråkholme (10-18-1734 >>> 12-16-1802)
married Tina Kråkholme (8-8-1760 >>> 11-25-1786)
who had a daughter named Rut Kråkholme (5-11-1786 >>> 4-16-1820)
Rut then sired a son, Emerik, with an unknown man.

Emerik Kråkholme (12-16-1802 >>> 1-30-1886)
married Stina Kråkholme (12-10-1825 >>> 11-25-1870)
who had a daughter named Christina Kråkholme (3-14-1870 >>> 1-25-1904)
Christina then sired a son, Dragomir, with an unknown man.

Dragomir Kråkholme (1-30-1886 >>> 4-26-1960)
married Elizabeth Kråkholme (5-1-1921 >>> 11-25-1937)
who had a daughter named Anna Kråkholme (8-13-1937 >>> 2-13-1987)
Anna then sired a son, Edward, with an unknown man.

And finally, Edward Kråkholme (4-26-1960 >>> 3-14-1997) then married Julia Kråkholme (5-4-1964 >>> 1-10-1997)

There is an obvious pattern here… the Kråkholm “patriarch” marries a woman from outside the family, sires at least one daughter who in turn sires exactly one son, who then becomes the next patriarch of the Kråkholm and repeat the process. You shouldn’t be surprised that they are this obsessed with keeping to traditions…

But what did Chris means with the dates? What’s so important about them?

Kaktus 2023/09/07(Thu)10:08 No. 1071923 ID: 681cb5
File 169410652960.png - (45.15KB , 700x550 , 29.png )

>I see lots of self-indulgent titillation here, but they aren't birth dates. You can endure the red-eyed glare by now, but you need to cover up that portrait on the lower left. That moustache is far too intimidating.
Ugh, you need to cover up all four of them! Those red-rimmed eyes are just way to creepy! Though, seeing as you can’t find anything to cover them with nearby, you simply grab them and flip them over to the other side… or at least you try to. As you pull on the edge of the painting depicting Sigmund, it opens like a hatch and reveals a safe behind it. Here you though painting safes were just in the movies. It’s locked though, and something tells you it won’t be your wedding day that’s the combination this time…

…hmm, have you seen a safe combination somewhere before?

Obsessed to keeping traditions, or possessing of a genetic error that expresses itself in male children, such that any male sired by a Kråkholme is severely malformed and/or perishes. Perhaps inbreeding somehow cancels out this error, so the only way for a Kråkholme to have a healthy son is to... wait for one of his daughters to come of age. All the other genetic errors would be activated by the inbreeding, so... not ideal.

Best strategy: stop reproducing and give up you awful people you're fighting a losing battle and it's time to lay your cursed family to rest because that means every generation had a daughter who had to bed her own father and—oh hey, a secret wall safe!

Now where was that combination...

Each freshly married mother died within months of her daughter's birth. That's highly suspicious.

And the "next patriarch" is always of unknown father, which is... "helpful" in keeping the family name. It's also horrifyingly possible for this "unknown man" to always be the previous patriarch...

Wait... Each patriarch died the day his grandson (and possibly son) was born!

>>1071931

> Each freshly married mother died within months of her daughter's birth. That's highly suspicious.

That's not suspicious. This is suspicious.

> Ingrid Kråkholme (8-13-1605 >>> 11-25-1634)
> Kärstin Kråkholme (3-13-1672 >>> 11-25-1717)
> Tina Kråkholme (8-8-1760 >>> 11-25-1786)
> Stina Kråkholme (12-10-1825 >>> 11-25-1870)
> Elizabeth Kråkholme (5-1-1921 >>> 11-25-1937)

> 11-25-1634
> 11-25-1717
> 11-25-1786
> 11-25-1870
> 11-25-1937

>Safe
Try each of the dates you just saw, starting with Dragomir since his portrait was hiding the safe. If this seems insecure, remember that the dates were classified and Chris locked the computer when he found out.

>>1071933
Agreed. How come they all died on that same day of the year? This might be something Chris was looking into. Seems like Julia is the only wife mentioned here that didn't die on the 25th of November.

>>1072062

It's rather obvious how. Recall the portrait "Passing On the Blood." Clearly it's a metaphor not for butchery, but for the ritualistic sacrifice of every woman who marries into the Kråkholme family. Julia is the exception because Edward went insane, killed her and then himself, before whatever that ritual was going to be to sacrifice her on 11-25.

Why though? What's special about "the blood" of people who aren't even related to the Kråkholmes? Because every one of those women weren't; they just took their husband's name when they married him.

My guess is it has something to do with the lifecycle of these parasitic brain worms that old crow keeps going on about.

Kaktus 2023/09/10(Sun)13:19 No. 1072127 ID: 681cb5
File 169437718153.png - (57.50KB , 700x550 , 30.png )

>Obsessed to keeping traditions, or possessing of a genetic error that expresses itself in male children, such that any male sired by a Kråkholme is severely malformed and/or perishes. Perhaps inbreeding somehow cancels out this error…
You’ve seen enough weird shit in this godforsaken town that you can say with certainty that there’s something supernatural going on here. Whatever is going on here, it’s not some genetic disease! What it is, is some kind of dark magic or other horrible malevolent force. And you’re going to put a stop to it. For your hubby sake.

>Try each of the dates you just saw, starting with Dragomir since his portrait was hiding the safe.
It was Sigmund’s painting it was hidden behind, not Dragomir… but dates might work…
…
As you start turn the knob, you notice something beneath the thick layer of dust on the safe. Someone has carved numbers into it. All the dates are here, as well as some other strange symbols and words, though going by this none of the combinations worked. Hmm, these carvings can’t be more than a year or two old…
Still, not taking any risks, you start to enter each important date into the safe. None of them works, but you do notice something else...
Each patriarch died on the very same date as the next one was born… as if they replaced each other. It is as there always had to be one Kråkholme, but only ever one, alive at any given time. But… why?
Then there’s the wives… they all died shortly after their youngest daughter was born, at the exact same date. The 25th of November. What’s so important about that date?
…
Julia is the odd one out. Not only didn’t she die on the same year as her youngest daughter, but she didn’t die on the 25th either. Did Edward try and break the cycle by killing his family and then himself? To ensure the Kråkholme bloodline died out? Hmm, the painting downstairs, the “Passing on the Blood” that depicted the old man teaching the younger one to butcher… can it be a metaphor for is happening to all the wives? That they are sacrificed for the next generation? …but that doesn’t make sense, as each father dies when the son is born… and the son is born years after the wife is already dead. Bah, maybe you’re overthinking this…

>Now where was that combination...
You know you’ve seen a combination somewhere… but where!? Gah!

Kaktus 2023/09/10(Sun)13:19 No. 1072128 ID: 681cb5
File 169437719393.png - (80.88KB , 700x550 , 31.png )

Needing to get away from those horrid eyes you make your way out of the office to breathe a bit. Ugh, things are just getting more and more complicated! Weird dates and hidden safes… what is going on in this house? This town?

Right, you need to figure out your next move…

Do you want to trade the amulet to Sophia for the key to the crypt? The whole point of it was to give it to Chris, after all… yet, you have this feeling that you really need to get into the crypt for some reason. It’s important.

Then there’s the puzzle box… and the flute… and the safe you just found… not to mention the dome and the golden orb… *sigh*, where do you even start?

…and why is the son born on the day the father dies? Why does he return for his blood? He always returns for his blood…

[Current objectives:]
Find Chris and give him the Amulet.
Open the puzzle box. (Josephine said she could break it open, but is there another way?)
Open the office safe.
What’s up with the strange flute?
Get access to the crypt. (Trade amulet to Sophia for the key?)
Find a way into the dome at the top of the house.
Figure out where the orb of gold you saw in your dream is.
Why are the sons and father’s death and birth the same?

[Inventory:]
Amulet
Strange Flute
Puzzle Box
Torch
Old Photo album
Oil lamp
Child’s Diary and Edwards’ Diary (Read: https://questden.org/kusaba/questarch/res/1053691.html#1063067)
Your Wedding ring  
Wallet
Fire poker (For defense)

Waitasec. What are those things on the fireplace to your left there? They look like decorative torches with golden um, orbs in them?

Oh, right, now I remember! The combination was in Edwards journal, 12-53-2!

There was also a line about the clue to entering the secret cellar door behind the labeled bottles being the family names. We now have a list of those names, we can open it now!

On second thought, it's true, Chris may need the amulet more. We should tell Sophia about our dream, and how the world, or at least the town and its surroundings, are going to be overtaken by the worms in two days.
She will at least let us peak in the crypt for a bit if we push her fear that not letting us in will end up worse for her than if she does.

Kaktus 2023/09/13(Wed)08:22 No. 1072293 ID: 681cb5
File 169461852204.png - (37.65KB , 700x550 , 32.png )

>On second thought, it's true, Chris may need the amulet more. We should tell Sophia about our dream, and how the world, or at least the town and its surroundings, are going to be overtaken by the worms in two days.
Why do you have the feeling that making her panic even more is a bad idea? Not to mention, she seems way too stubborn to give up the key that easily… but it’s worth a try, you guess?

>The combination was in Edwards journal, 12-53-2!
With a click, the safe door swings open. Inside, you find an old letter still sealed inside its envelope, a few ink stained pages ripped from a book and… is that a hand? There, in the corner, is a rabbit hand, clearly intentionally preserved. Covered with bandages, it’s been dried out and embalmed, to ensure it survived for gods know how long. The words “I will return for my blood” is written on the palm. While creepy, it’s not that different than the elk head stuffed downstairs, is it? … … …you pick it up and put it in your pocket. You just got this feeling you’ll need it later.

Leaving the macabre trinket for a moment, you move your focus to the pages littering the bottom of the safe. A quick glance confirms your suspicion. This is indeed the pages ripped out from Edwards dairy, the one you found down in the basement. Picking them up, you try your best to read them, but they are in such bad shape it’s hard to make out most words, let alone full sentences.

“-zzle box that cannot be open by mortal hands, at least according to the man I bought it from at the Cauldron. This should be enough to keep their grubby hands away from the lens. I gave my old amulet for it, even if he refused at first. Only b-”
“-asked them about the Cauldron, but no one has heard of the shop. Why can’t I find it again in those twisting lanes!? Is this his work!?”
“-that old hobo keeps following me around, even after I yelled to her to get lost. She said that she knew my mother and older brother, but my mother is long dead and my brother was stillborn, so it’s clear she is lying. She’s probably just some loony old coot that has had too much to-“
“-buried with William, but I haven’t dared open his coffin. Maybe I won’t need the music box or it’s key. Maybe the instrument is something-“
“-the lens and the flute are safe behind the bookcase. It’s the least I can do if he would return again.”
“-hide it in wine cellar, in one of the bottle holders. No one will find it there and read my secrets!”

Finally, there’s the unopened letter. The envelope lacks a stamp, but there’s a rather detailed description on how to get to the house, get into this very safe and that the letter should be left in here. Oh, and it’s addressed to “whom it may concern”. Ripping it open, you find a neatly folded paper smelling of disinfectant.

…it’s blank? It’s just a blank piece of paper? That’s disappointing.

Kaktus 2023/09/13(Wed)08:22 No. 1072294 ID: 681cb5
File 169461853931.png - (119.50KB , 700x550 , 33.png )

>There was also a line about the clue to entering the secret cellar door behind the labeled bottles being the family names. We now have a list of those names, we can open it now!
While you might be able to figure out the password, you still have no idea how to actually interact with those bottles in the first place. Nothing you did actually made them move, remember?

>Waitasec. What are those things on the fireplace to your left there?
It’s a stone hand holding an orb… an orb of brass. The polish gleams over the sphere, making it shine in the light. Your reflection is like a tiny doll trapped inside it, in a world tinged by the color of brass. Your face swells and stretches as you stare back at yourself through the curved, distorted walls, giving you an odd sense of déjà vu. Have you seen this orb before somewhere?

…it’s the orb Chris gave to you… in your dream.

Hesitantly, you put your hand on it, and twist it…

Kaktus 2023/09/13(Wed)08:22 No. 1072295 ID: 681cb5
File 169461854780.png - (63.94KB , 700x550 , 34.png )

The stone wails as it starts to move, grinding against each other in a painful obligation, as the back of the fireplace opens up. Behind it, a secret tunnel inside the very walls of this depraved estate. Wasting no time, you crawl inside.

Kaktus 2023/09/13(Wed)08:22 No. 1072296 ID: 681cb5
File 169461855626.png - (82.94KB , 700x550 , 35.png )

The air feels heavy in here… and the stench of decay and rotting flesh drifts in from somewhere deeper inside. The moist planks that lines the walls and floor move slightly as you walk on them, groaning under your weight. The rest… is silence. You can’t help but shudder.

You look down the twisting and turning corridor leading into the deepest, blackest depths. The passage seemingly goes on forevermore. Yet… how can it? These distorted wooden beams go far beyond the confines of the wall. In fact, you merely have to take a step forward and you should be standing in the very office you were just in. Yet, her you are. Looking down a passage that is impossible. But, as you continue looking into the abyss, it almost feels like it’s warping before your eyes, distorting itself with ill intent as if it’s taunting you to venture further.

A soft, rhythmic beating from the left contaminates the silence…

It's... just some strange architecture, like that bit up in the attic. Explore further. You have a lot to think about with knowing what is in the box was precious enough for Edward to gave away his amulet. You'll be returning the puzzle box to Jacques after this is all over; it's only fair. You need to survive that long. Explore further.

The letter must have some manner of invisible ink. The most well-known one is thermally revealed, you can try delicately heating the paper (fire is a big no-no though -- do you have a clothes iron?)

Go in. Take a look through the peepholes.

>a neatly folded paper smelling of disinfectant.
What kind of disinfectant? Lemon-scented perhaps? If so, you merely need to hold it up to a lit candle to find the hidden message.

Kaktus 2023/09/15(Fri)11:19 No. 1072409 ID: 681cb5
File 169480196599.png - (96.96KB , 700x550 , 36.png )

>What kind of disinfectant? Lemon-scented perhaps? If so, you merely need to hold it up to a lit candle to find the hidden message.
Lemon? No… it smells more like a hospital. One of those where the stench of death hangs in the air. It reminds you way to much of your grandmother and her last few weeks. As for revealing its secrets, you’ll be on the lookout for a candle… or something warm… or worst case scenario, you’ll dig up your old clothes iron from the boxes downstairs.

>You have a lot to think about with knowing what is in the box was precious enough for Edward to give away his amulet.
Just the more reason why you need to open it! Whatever it is, Edward called it a lens… but a lens for what?
>You'll be returning the puzzle box to Jacques after this is all over; it's only fair.
You’ll throw the pieces of it at him after you smash it! Why couldn’t he sell it with instructions on how to open it!?

>It's... just some strange architecture, like that bit up in the attic. Explore further.
With a hesitant step, you start your journey down the corridor. A thick cloud of dust dances around in the light of your torch. The smell of fungus and rotted meat makes you gag. It feels like this will be your coffin. The boards below your feet creak with each step, releasing more dust into the air and making the air even harder to breathe. It doesn’t help that the floor is tilting slightly upwards, making it feel like you’re losing your balance. And the walls. The walls are getting close and closer, crushing you between them ever so slowly. After what feels like an eternity, you reach a pair of holes drilled into the wall, only visible because of the light shining through them. Though, even further ahead there are at least half a dozen more of them. Points of light hidden in the darkness...

Thump… thump… thump… the sound of something banging against the wood grows louder with each step you take.

Kaktus 2023/09/15(Fri)11:19 No. 1072410 ID: 681cb5
File 169480197627.png - (42.47KB , 700x550 , 37.png )

>Go in. Take a look through the peepholes.
… … …w-what? Those are… t-that’s… that’s the living room on the first floor! The one with that horrid painting of Bövel! But… how!? You’re supposed to be looking into the office on the second floor, not a room that’s a floor below it on the other side of the house! This… no, this can’t be… has someone been watching you?

You move on to the next pair of holes… which shows the child’s bedroom on the second floor… and the third pair shows the foyer…

The pounding increases in intensity, both in sound and speed. You can almost feel the wall throb with each thud.

Kaktus 2023/09/15(Fri)11:19 No. 1072411 ID: 681cb5
File 169480198648.png - (31.32KB , 700x550 , 38.png )

The next pair of peepholes is located in the ceiling, but when you stretch yourself to look into them, you’re met by a top down view of the kitchen. The old crow is there, hiding under the table, gnawing on her sandwich. Is she… hiding from something?

You move on, taking a peek through each pair of openings you pass. The wine cellar… the library… the office… the gallery… your bedroom. Every last room in the house can be seen from this corridor. What… how… who built this? And why!?

…rhythmic beating, always from the left. No matter how you turn, it’s always coming from the left.

Kaktus 2023/09/15(Fri)11:19 No. 1072412 ID: 681cb5
File 169480199864.png - (55.89KB , 700x550 , 39.png )

Wait, where did you come from? You’ve gotten yourself turned around in the dark and can’t remember where you came from. Taking a direction at random, you start ascending a pair of stairs into the darkness. No, that’s not right… you were walking upwards before, so the exit has to be downhill, right? Turning around, you start to ascend the stairs into the black void.

The beating from the left is getting louder… and is starting to match your own heart in rhythm.

…you shine the light up the stairs, unable to see the top of it. Looking behind you, you can see the stairs going upwards, but there doesn’t seem to be an end to them. Closing your eyes, you take a step back up the stairs… and then a step forward up the stairs. You jump downwards and land further up the stairs. You give up and sit down further up the stairs… and when you blink you’re even further up the stairs.

You scream.

In a panic, you run in a random direction. No matters where you go the stairs get steeper and steeper, forever going upwards. The walls are getting closer… the ceiling lower… you’re getting crushed. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. The torch flickers and you can’t see. The glass cracks as you drop it. The stairs keep going upwards as the heart of the house starts beating harder and faster, making the left wall pulse and bend. No matter how you turn, the stairs always go up and the beating is from the left. You can’t see you can’t breathe you can’t escape always up always up always up. The walls are closing in, trapping you in a coffin alive, no matter how fast you run or how loud you scream. They keep going upwards. The stairs…

…there’s a light at the top of the stairs.

Kaktus 2023/09/15(Fri)11:20 No. 1072413 ID: 681cb5
File 169480200916.png - (154.93KB , 700x550 , 40.png )

Stumbling through the doorway, you manage to escape the beating heart of the house, instead finding yourself in a large domed room with a telescope in it. Is this… the observatory? How in the… fuck, you’re not going to question how you got here. Something is clearly wrong with this house. So fucking wrong.

The beating heart slows down, disappearing back into the void behind you…


[Current objectives:]
Find Chris and give him the Amulet.
Open the puzzle box. (Josephine might be able to break it open. Was bought from Bernard.)
What’s up with the strange flute?
Get access to the crypt. (Trade amulet to Sophia for the key?)
Search the observatory for clues.
Why are the sons and father’s death and birth the same?

[Inventory:]
Amulet
Strange Flute
Puzzle Box
Old Photo album
Oil lamp
Child’s Diary and Edwards’ Diary
Your Wedding ring  
Wallet
Fire poker (For defense)
Empty note (Secret message?)
Mummified hand of a hare (why?)

Didn't you... cover up the painting of Bovel? It could be cameras, giving you a view from the ceiling, through the ceiling. That heartbeat though. The old crow said the mansion was a carcass of evil, but she's wrong this place is very much alive. Try not to think about just how you're going to get out of this observatory.

No need to inspect the telescope, you know exactly where that damn thing is pointed and you do not need to be reminded of the stakes right now. You have some things to look at here though. The diagram above the... entrance, what's written there? The constellation map has that diamond symbol with the line through it on the left side, but what about the rest of the symbols? You might look at the one scroll that's left on the table, and that bottle of something next to it. And finally that book... what does it contain, and what happens when you put the rabbit's hand on the indentation? Maybe you can find something that would give you enough reason to go to the crypt, even if you couldn't get your husband the amulet. Your dream Chris did say it would help in an unconventional way, after all.

Don't worry about the flute.

>>1072413
Alright, so we've learned that the house's twisted passages are inherently dangerous. How are we going to get back out of this room? Look for another exit.

Check out the scrolls. Look around for something to light a candle with so you can check the note for lemon-ink. Be careful not to burn it.

Oh also the telescope probably doesn't even work, as it's likely missing a lens.

Ooooh! Glowing book! Read the book.

I don't care how you do it, but smash a wall through the observatory so you can fast-travel back here with a ladder.

Kaktus 2023/09/17(Sun)15:28 No. 1072554 ID: 681cb5
File 169498972768.png - (76.61KB , 700x550 , 41.png )

>How are we going to get back out of this room? Look for another exit.
It’s rather obvious that this place only have one entrance. There aren’t even any bookcases or fireplaces around to hide a secret passage. Heck, even the telescope is built into the ceiling!
>I don't care how you do it, but smash a wall through the observatory so you can fast-travel back here with a ladder.
There’s no way you’re getting through these walls, unless you manage to find a sledgehammer hiding in here somewhere.

>Look around for something to light a candle with so you can check the note for lemon-ink. Be careful not to burn it.
You manage to find an old matchbox from the early 1900s. Surprisingly it still works! Of course, you can’t help but consider just how much an old matchbox like this might be worth… heck, there’s probably a lot of stuff lying around here that might fetch a nice prize if you find a collector. You leave these greedy thoughts behind when you notice the blank page transform in front of your eyes. Holding it up to a candle, hidden text appears…

“My name is Edward Kråkholme, and this is my testament: I am utterly, utterly mad.
This task shall be my last on earth; when I am finished, I shall dash my brains out against the cell window. The last of the Kråkholme will be dead, and the world made a slightly brighter place thereby.

From as early as I can remember, I could feel the lurking presence of the man on the threshold. He stalked the boundaries of my mind, seeking a means of entrance, of condemning my soul to limbo and taking up a fresh, new abode in my young limbs. His evil, red-rimmed eyes haunted my every dream and overshadowed even my waking hours. The amulet my mother gave me while I was still in the crib protected me, for the creature cannot abide its presence, and must flee all who wear it, but Mother died while I was still young, and since then my folly has brought tragedy to myself and to all those I love.

The memory of my mother's urgent warnings faded soon after her death. I became embarrassed by the scandal that seemed to hover over my family name like a pall, and was mortified by the superstitious trinket that I still wore around my neck, as if in ignorant servitude to those old myths. The red-rimmed eyes had not given me nightmares since my twelfth birthday, and I dismissed them as an immature fancy that had passed along with my boyhood. At the age of 21, I pawned the amulet at a magic shop somewhere in town, and thereby sealed my doom.

I scoured every street in this cursed town, looking for that magic shop, but I have never found it. In desperation I began delving into old histories and forbidden genealogies, researching the history of the dread Kråkholme name for some solution to my plight. I discovered no answers, only horrors I dare not write down. But I also discovered something worse; the ultimate purpose behind the old demon's nefarious rituals!

He plans to unleash a primordial evil such that the earth could not possibly survive. I have seen the plans and the blueprints; I have read the dread tome in the observatory; I have used the obsidian lens that is not true obsidian, and I have looked upon what that madman means to draw down onto this earth! He and this town, his foul congregation of fanatics and madmen! They are all a part of it! They have been watching me, waiting for the return of their monstrous high priest!!

It was then that I realized that killing only myself would not be enough. He always returns to his blood…

I did the only thing I could do… Julia, I am so terribly sorry, but I will be with you soon, I could not let him have you, or Gertrude or Sonia, and I will not let him have me. Say good-bye to the last of the Kråkhome; there will be no blood for him once I am gone.”

Kaktus 2023/09/17(Sun)15:28 No. 1072555 ID: 681cb5
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>No need to inspect the telescope, you know exactly where that damn thing is pointed and you do not need to be reminded of the stakes right now.
Even if you wanted to use it you can’t. It’s clearly missing a lens… a lens that Edward hid in the puzzle box you found. Still, he did think the lens was important enough to hide, didn’t he? Maybe a quick peek won’t hurt?
>Maybe you can find something that would give you enough reason to go to the crypt, even if you couldn't get your husband the amulet. Your dream Chris did say it would help in an unconventional way, after all.
Edwards journal mentioned something hidden in the crypt, right? It might be something you’ll need. It feels important.


Looking around the room, you carefully start examining any object that might be interesting. Most of it is star charts written in some different languages. Sometimes in what you believe is Latin. Other times in some strange, vaguely Arabic-looking alphabet. Neither is a language you can actually read. Most of the scrolls are filled with the same strange texts accompanied by weird symbols and patterns, making them useless to you. There are also several bottles and flask lying around, but none of them are marked and you rather not try and figure out what’s in them by experimentation. What little you can figure out from all this madness is that someone has been following the movements of the stars for a long, long time. They have been doing this for at least 400 years… and it all seems to point to one single date. Monday the 5th of October, when the moon is full… which is to say, tomorrow night. There is only two days remaining…

Moving aside some papers, you spot something else… interesting. It seems to be an anatomical diagram of… something. Something you rather never meet. You have no idea what’s being written about it, but who ever made this sketch was clearly interested in this abomination.

Next to it is a blueprint of a tower of some sort. Once again, the writing is in a language you don’t understand, but you can clearly see that whoever designed this needed it built to a very specific spec. Oh wait, someone has written something on the corner of the blue print...
“13b516
13b814
13b912
13b650

Notice: Make sure the glass lens is of the correct measurements, using the wrong glass lens will be devastating for the ritual. Do not handle the glass lens without clean gloves, as any fingerprints or grease stains will ruin it. Do not try and clean said stains by normal means, as even if the lens will look clean to the naked eye, the small unevenness on its surface is enough to disturb the beacon, instead seek up your supervisor for aid.”

That last number has been circled several times…

Kaktus 2023/09/17(Sun)15:29 No. 1072556 ID: 681cb5
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>Didn't you... cover up the painting of Bovel?
…you did. Did… did fall off? Or did someone remove it?
>It could be cameras, giving you a view from the ceiling, through the ceiling.
There is no way a live video feed can be that sharp! Not to mention, there clearly wasn’t a screen on the other side of those holes either… no, that wasn’t something done with technology at all…

>Ooooh! Glowing book! Read the book.
A large tome without a title sits on a podium, it’s only markings are odd, golden runes on its spine and a glowing handprint on its front. The leather covers are worn and cracked; the metal corner fittings tarnished; the pages yellow and brittle. Even then, try as you might, you can’t get it to open. Is there a hidden lock on it somewhere?
>What happens when you put the rabbit's hand on the indentation?
Against your better judgment, you place the severed hand of a hare onto the book and it fits perfectly into the carved handprint on the front. Then, with a cyan glow, the hand fuses with the front of a book, showing of that diamond symbol for just a second before growing dim. While you can’t remove the hand, the tome is now open for you to read.

Kaktus 2023/09/17(Sun)15:29 No. 1072557 ID: 681cb5
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Inscribed on the title page are the words “Haermoniacon: Manual of the Atonal Servitors” beneath what you presume must be the same words written in that strange, vaguely Arabic-looking alphabet. There is also the name of the author on the bottom of the page; Bövel Kråkholme.

The greater portion of the book is written in an incomprehensible, flowing cipher; however, the margins in several pages are glossed in English. The book appears to contain instructions for traveling to somewhere called "the Domain of Nehilim", and for worshipping or perhaps summoning an entity that dwells there: He Who Is Named Not; nor may that Name be taught among His followers; that Name which may be learned only by gazing upon His Terrible Countenance...

The only specific details involve a ritual used to open a one-way portal into the Womb of Nehilim, allowing the magician to enter or possibly throw some hapless soul into its chaotic, blasphemous depths. The ritual seems to have something to do with music, and requires the magician to "Attune ye Pillars to ye Resonant Haermonicae", whatever that means.

The rest, by only the barest contrast, is nothing but pure raving.

But as you lean closer over the pages to make out the words in this dim light, the letters seem to writhe and crawl across the page, twisting themselves into strange combinations, horrible words that you've never read before... and yet, somehow, you can understand their repulsive meaning. The words crawls into your brain, gorging themselves fat on its succulent flesh before borrowing into its moist folds to infect it with their eggs. You want to tear your eyes from the page in revulsion, but some small, gleefully filthy part of you wants to keep reading. They spell out something about a "Blessed Event", which will happen very soon, and a hideous god whose name may not be spoken... on how the great eye will arrive… and then paradise. But there… hidden beneath it all… there are hints in these decaying words, these rotting truths, that there is a way to stop it. You just need to read more… understand more…

Will you read on? It is the only way to save him… to save your husband… to save Chris. You need to know how to stop this… once and for all.

…will you read on?

CLOSE IT.
Or at least wear the amulet while reading it.

Get to opening a shortcut back to this place.

Close it close it! That book is full of worms. You don't want to be full of worms. You don't need to understand. You need to act. There is a way to stop this, and that book will only lead you further away.

The creature in the diagram is a familiar shape to you, something known as the "Tree of Life" in esoteric Jewish tradition: a diagram of ten, or eleven spheres called sephiroths. As a representation of all creation, a creature with that form would be designed to grasp, control, and... probably devour everything with that mouth in the little known eleventh sephiroth.

You're not sure how you know this because you dabble in mysticism, but you're no Jewish scholar.

Edward said "He and this town, his foul congregation of fanatics and madmen!" So there are people in town who are actually trying to get this thing latched onto your planet. Not all of them though: Sophia's far too frightened, and the catfish seems only tangentially involved. Father Thorne is too open in his condemnation of the rest of the town, he wouldn't be concerned if he was in on it. Everyone else... you just don't know them well enough to say.

"taking up a fresh, new abode in my young limbs" Dragomir wasn't... Dragomir. He was Bövel. They all were Bövel! He's been dying at the birth of his grandson in order to possess their bodies, generation after generation! How is that possible? It must be Edward's madness. That can't happen to Chris, can it? How would you dispel the specter of a man who's been dead over 300 years?

Is there anything in this observatory that resembles a melody, that could be played on a flute?

>>1072554
If that's his motive, why kill his wife? Sonia didn't have any of His Blood... unless it transfers by marriage? But if that's the case... you'd be in danger too. And there's only one amulet.

>>1072557
>read?
Not all at once. You need to learn to steel your mind against its influence. Look away. Clear your mind, cleanse your mind. Once you are absolutely sure you've recovered, look again.

Seems like Bövel, or whoever worshiped this dark crearure before him, has been posessing the bodies of his male descendants for ages.

Poor Edward, he never knew his brother was alive.
And now Björn is the last Krakhölme. A Krakhölme that looks a suspicious lot like the creature in the diagram.

I'd recommend putting on the amulet before continuing.

She's not wearing the amulet right now? Why?

Just a quick note: She's wearing the amulet, I'm just dumb and keep forgetting to draw it.

Kaktus 2023/09/19(Tue)06:15 No. 1072686 ID: 681cb5
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>Look away. Clear your mind, cleanse your mind. Once you are absolutely sure you've recovered, look again.
You close your eyes, turn your head away and take a deep breath. You just need a moment… but when you open your eyes again you’re still reading the book. Averting your gaze, you try and find anything else to focus on in the room, but no matter where you look, you’re still reading the book, still seeing the words on those brittle, yellow pages. As you spin around, you almost knock down the still lit candle next to you, but even that only give you a second reprieve from the horrid worms that are crawling up your arm from inside the tome.
>Wear the amulet.
You are. It’s under your sweater. It feels like it’s burning up, searing itself into your flesh. It’s the one thing that is allowing you to actually focus on anything but the book, the one thing keeping you from drowning in the abyss of words. A light in the dark made out of the searing heat of suffering.
>Close it, close it! That book is full of worms. You don't want to be full of worms.
You smash the book close and give a sigh of relief, only to notice to your horror that the book is still wide open in front of you. You throw it away from you, making it hit the opposite wall with a heavy thud, but as soon as you blink, the book is there again, in your hands. You were just imagining that you were able to close it, that you were able to throw it away… or even that you had the will to look away. You are weak willed, fox, and you will die for your hubris.
>CLOSE IT.
No matter how hard you try, your arms refuse to close it. You need to do something before it consumes you, but you aren’t strong enough to close it on your own!

As your hungry eyes lap up words after blasphemous word, your mind is assaulted by contorted vision of the past, the future and the now. A Tower of light, beckoning the eye ever closer, a mirror within mirrors suited at the top. Blood slowly flowing down an obelisk of bones, the scream of crows as a sacrifice is made. A house of flesh and gore where the beast sleeps, hidden among the pillars of rot and decay. Then, a glint in the darkness… something is there, hidden deep inside a dark abyss filled with death, dug right under the beasts den. It is… important.

The words start to crawl. Their movement making you dizzy as they twist and turn into spirals upon spirals. Your eyes following the bluish ink, hearing the smell that purple taste of, and you can feel your mind giving in, cracking open, getting ready to hatch so that the worms can turn into beautiful butterflies. You can’t look away. You can’t close it. You can’t let go. The burning sensation of the Amulet grows weaker and weaker… and with it, the grasp of your mind.

It has noticed you… and you can’t look away.



Help…

Please…

Chris…?

BURN IT

Burn it with fire! Walk over to the urn and put the book down behind it so it blocks your vision! Fall over onto your face so you're too close to read it or your arms get knocked away from you! Shake your head to take off your glasses so you can't read at all!

Many solutions.

Blasphemy shall be met with blasphemy
Write in the book! Use your newfound knowledge of this language to inscribe a coded message involving the destruction of the beacons hidden throughout the town.

You cannot close it, but you can make use of the force that compels you to grip it so.

Tear.

Tear and pull apart with all your strength!

A rent pupil cannot stare back.

Scream for help, call out to the crow!
Rip and burn the book! Write in it with your claws!
Think NOT of the foul and unholy things the book is inscribing into your brain. Think of your wonderful hubby! Think of spending romantic time with Chris. Focus as much of your thoughts on Chris as you can. Fight it back as much as you can.

lol she has a wedding