AHEM. Standing up on my self-promotion soap box today, because The Creepy Cottontail, which is a hybrid fiction/game aide FR Press has been experimenting with, is on sale for less than a gallon of gas. You can see what else you can get for a discount if you visit the DriveThruRPG Sale page.
Now, I’ve talked about this particularly scary rodent in a design essay titled: Inside the New Antagonist, Creepy Cottontail.
What is this antagonist about? Well, think failed ritual plus a pissed off god. Yep, it’s that dry and that sarcastic. I know I find it high-larious, but what can I say? I’ve heard from people directly that they enjoyed the concept and the easter egg located at the end — especially when it first came out!
(As an aside: reviews are always that hard, hard thing to ask for. . . You liked my stuff enough to buy it! Now sell your first-born child and leave a review!)
Anyhoo, thought I might give you a taste of Nyarlathotep. This aide includes a very strange story and I spent longer than usual establishing his character. It includes poetry-as-art text formed in a specific construction on the page. Well, and he’s not a happy god… To be sure…
The Curse of the Yellow Rabbit Excerpt
Iridescent trapezoids twisted high above the Tower of Nyarlathotep in a blistering pink cloud. The geometric shapes moved too quickly for his liking. Was it a sign? Were the Elder Gods angry with him?
Nyarlathotep’s watchful eye traced the fine stitching of the soft floor beneath his feet. Woven from the blackened tongues of traitors and con artists, the Tower reeked of guilt. The stench sickened him. It was time to start building a new temple, a sturdier one. Made of feet, perhaps? Or ribs?
By his calculations, it had been eighty years since the Dark Messenger’s last manifestation on Earth. During his absence, the dreams of mortals twisted away from the slithering darkness, toward soccer balls, annoying television shows and pictures of cats.
Amassing body parts on Earth in the modern age could be troublesome. Over the years, Nyarlathotep gleaned many things from his dream-walks. Wood, ox and stone had been replaced with metal, glass and plastic. Humanity thrived, its population tripled. That fact didn’t worry Nyarlathotep as much as it should have. His concern was simple: his followers were dwindling and he was not sure why.
Even though Nyarlathotep had bent many minds to his will during his last visit, only a handful still called his name. For whatever reason, Earth’s denizens were not as weak as they once were. They were bold and brave and resolute, as if they were gods themselves. By the Old Ones, they even fell in love with monsters — star vampires, mostly — instead of running for their lives.
The Dark Messenger couldn’t help but laugh. The frailty and punishment of mortals was the one thing all gods and creatures agreed upon. Ironic, since they could never figure out what form of torture would work best, just that it needed to be done.
Fortunately, there was one thing all mortals were vulnerable to, one power their minds could not ignore. The Word of Nyarlathotep held sway over their meat-filled minds, provided he took human form.
Find the rest of the story and more about this peculiar antagonist in The Creepy Cottontail.
