From: rigler@galileo.ifa.hawaii.edu (80 Hours)
Subject: [KQ] Thk [Shunned Center] In the City of the Old Ones
Organization: IFA
Date: Fri, 9 Oct 1992 02:41:33 GMT

Thk, prince of the lizarmen, sinks deeper and deeper into the ocean's 
black depths finally coming to rest at the bottom amidst the crab covered 
carcass of a long dead whale.  The undersea grotto is lit up by a phosphor-
escent school of glowfish, and, as a bouquet of tubeworms gradually becomes 
used to his presence they emerge, favoring Thk with a splash of brilliant 
orange color.  It is beautiful.  And peaceful.

Thk has come here to think.

"Where have I seen those runes and carvings before?"  he inquires of a passing 
nudibranch, but there is no breath in his lungs so he can only mouth the words 
and emit a dolphin-like squeak.  The squeak actually comes out more like a 
deep sputter under the tremendous pressure of the water above him.  

"Wow.  I've never been this deep before."  The nudibranch has already left him,
but it is replaced by another presence, a golden glow which darts out the 
shadows and approaches to nip at the end of Thk's snout.

"Sure you have, Thk."  The Golden Carp sings, and laughs its peculiar laugh 
that is like the tinkling of a thousand gold doubloons coming to rest against 
a rocky reef.  As always, Thk attempts to close his eyes against the sight of 
this entity's god-like beauty.  And, as always, the Minion of Sssuthru cannot 
be shut out so easily.  SSsilliith wiggles its tail for attention, and Thk
hears a deep tone, like the solemn but insistent tolling of a far away bell.  

Thk cannot ignore it.  He sighs and opens his eyes.  "No, never this deep."

"But surely, O noble-but-somewhat-dense child of the swamp, you have not 
completely forgotten about your visit to the City of the Old Ones?"

Of course!  How could he have forgotten?  The spires of that pale forbidden 
city hidden in the depths of the trenches.  The crumbling City of the Old 
ones that he had foolishly entered against every warning.   A place of evil
into which even Minions of SSsuthru would not venture unless commanded by
the hoary old Sea God himself.  Back in those days, Thk was young and reck-
less, and after his recent aquisition of the Sea God's Trident he believed 
himself immortal.  But in this he was foolish, and his boldness was rewarded 
not only with a stern lesson about his own mortality, but also by a mighty 
jolt to his very sanity...

---------   ---------   ---------   ---------   ---------   ---------   

For how many hours had he wandered the mazelike ramps and hallways and
poured over the alien scenes depicted in the frescos and bas-reliefs lining
every wall of that seemingly endless city?  Feeling both repulsed and curious, 
he studied the carvings until a picture emerged of a highly advanced civil-
ization, a race of starfish-like creatures.  The significance of most of that
races activities was lost on Thk, but he did come to understand that they
prayed to an evil god, an amoeba-like metamorphic mass which occupied an
enormous pool in the central tower looming over of the metropolis and dwarfing 
all other edifices.  Climbing to the top of the building he happened to be in, 
Thk caught a glimpse of the ruins of that tower:  A squat hexagonal construct 
of rust-free metal that had apparently been rocked by an explosion from within,
for its upper stories blasted outwards over the nearby buildings.  The structure
was clearly in ruins and neglected.  Nevertheless, the feeling at the back of 
Thk's neck told him that the tower was not necessarily unnoccupied.

In fact, he felt strangely drawn to the tower and would have gone to it,
had he not at that very moment heard the chanting, that deep basso chanting
compressed by immense oceanic pressures from which a few words could be 
resolved:

"Y-yagoth...Shig F'yazagoth...Y-yagoth...Shig F'yazagoth Ai Ai..."

The chanting was originating from a point beneath the very building whose
roof he stood on, and it was growing louder and more distinctive by the 
minute!  Thk swam across a courtyard and began to swim with all his might.
The powers of the Trident aided him in his feverish flight.  Even so, when
he had looked back over his shoulder, he glimpsed a many-tentacled horror. 
It was gaining on him!  As he neared the gates of the city, and freedom, the 
foul monstrosity had almost caught up to him, and as the thing reached for 
his legs it began to gloat in an insane tittering voice--

Thk turned and blasted the Unholy thing with the full force of the Trident.  

After that, there followed an interminal lapse into madness, a retreat into 
catatonia.  He forgot the whole episode and never knew how he came to be on
the shores of his homeland once more.

---------   ---------   ---------   ---------   ---------   ---------   

"I remember it now!"  he tells SSsilliith.

The Golden Carp giggles, "Of course you do, Thk.  Now, lets get you back
to your battle.  BOYS!"

The Minion is answered by a deep bellow, followed by the looming shapes of 
a pod of sperm whales.  The lead whale gently scoops the lizardman up in its 
mouth, and the pod heads up towards the surface.   From behind and below, Thk 
hears the admonishing voice of Sssilliith.  "Use the Trident Thk.  And do not 
forget that you owe me a full ship and crew of the land dwellers."

...Thk opens his eyes.  He is on his back against a pillar in the midst of
some sort of battle, and before him he sees the hilt of his own daggar prot-
ruding from his chest.  He can feel a the great pain of his heart laboring 
against the intrusion of oiled steel.  Thanks to Sssilliith, he has been given 
a gift of energy.  A small gift, but enough to reach up and pluck the daggar 
free.  Fresh blood wells up from the wound and he loses consciousness once 
more--


    \========C\                Rigler...
              \\ 
  <===========C ]==|[///////////////////]|==========|[////////////]D>
              //  
    /========C/                 ...Thk

--
                                        A river of coffee,
                                        An ocean of bile.
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