#From the Depths of Y'ha-nthlei

[musicmakesyousmart]

Lurk - From the Depths of Y'ha​-​nthlei

Dungeons Deep

2020

[scarletarosa]

Dagon

Greater god of the sea

While Dagon is not an outer god from the Void, he came from somewhere beyond our solar system and entered the Earth to dwell in its seas. He is still, however, an immensely powerful deity and is very difficult to comprehend. Furthermore, Dagon is the same deity worshiped by the Canaanites, Philistines, and Babylonians under the same name. He was praised as a fish-tailed god of the seas who ruled over fishing and agriculture. These civilizations all worshiped gods of water as agriculture gods due to water being needed for the irrigation of crops. Thus, he is not truly linked to agriculture, but it’s something he has secondary connection to because of water’s importance in the fertility of the land. When Lovecraft received his horrific visions of the outer gods, he witnessed some of the greater gods as well; one of which was Dagon, in his true form. This inspired Lovecraft to write stories, but he was unknowingly connecting to many truths in what he wrote since his mind was influenced by the vast deities who made themselves known to him.

Appearance: Dagon is an enormous, aquatic humanoid-amphibian with green-yellow eyes, and a massive sea serpent-like tail. He also has fins on his arms and legs. Overall, Dagon looks very similar to the above image.

Father Dagon is one of the greater gods who rule over the race of beings known as the Deep Ones. These are humanoid, fish-like beings who are often said to mate with humans, which produces a hybrid offspring. The hybrids are known to have the blessing of the sea and spend their lives feeling scorn for humanity. They are always filled with an overwhelming desire to abandon the land for the ocean and go to the Deep One city of Y'ha-nthlei. Eventually, they leave land to dwell in the sea once they are matured and more physically aquatic. Those humans who seek to be close to the sea and join its depths worship Father Dagon and his mate, Mother Hydra. These two gods are only surpassed by Cthulhu in regards to being deities of the ocean, since Cthulhu leads all of them, including the Deep Ones. Two known books which hold secrets of these gods of the deep are The Book of Dagon and the Cthäat Aquadingen.

In the ancient past, Dagon was one of the Shepherds of the Sea, meaning that he would watch over the sea creatures and protect them. He also used to come upon land at times and wander beaches before returning to the sea. Though now, since the ocean is full of toxins and is no longer alive with as much mystery and beauty (especially after the death of so many ancient sea-races), Dagon has been filled with sorrow. He now usually keeps to himself, deep in the shadowy depths of the ocean. Despite what some may believe, Dagon is not a being who is destructive and cruel; he is typically a very gentle god who is filled with great wisdom and compassion. However, when Dagon is angered, he is terrifying and can easily cause immense destruction. He is only willing to speak to humans who respect both him and the sea, especially since he has long been angry with our race for causing so much pollution and slaughter.

As one of the Lords of the ocean, Dagon is a mysterious and majestic deity who knows the sacred secrets of the deep, watery world surrounding us. For all the millions of years that have passed untold, the sea keeps the ancient knowledge hidden in its enigmatic depths. Those who worship Dagon earnestly and truly love the sea may have the rare honour to experience the truth of the ocean and some of the knowledge which Father Dagon holds. This can cause an immense sense of longing towards the sea as one wishes to delve into it and never return. We seek to become one with the ocean, forever in its embrace and beyond the reach of humanity. As the sea is the primal womb of our Earth, the Mother always beckons to her true children. There, Father Dagon and Mother Hydra await, calling their sons and daughters into the waves.

Offerings: aquamarine, turquoise, green calcite, amber, seashells, pearls, shark teeth, star fish, dried sea urchins, seaweed, crab shells, coral, sea sponges, cuttlefish bones, anything else from the sea (unharmed), limes, tangerines, watermelons, Mediterranean pinecones, calendula flowers. Listen to the song Dagon by Graham Plowman since it connects very well to his energy.

Incense burner with the following placed on it: at least three burning charcoals, clams, crushed sea urchins (dead), and sea salt. Burn these all together as an offering, but careful not to breathe it in due to the strength of smell.

[hearthedungeons]

Lurk - From the Depths of Y'ha-nthlei

This one gives an interesting counterpoint to the previous review. To my knowledge this artist is also active in circles outside of the traditional dungeon synth affiliations, namely that of instrumental trap-hip-hop production. I urge and challenge you to keep reading if the previous sentence was for whatever reason a turnoff, however.

My real introduction to this artist was through his performance at a Twitch streamed "Dungeon Siege", during which he did several selections from this album in a way that seemed more like live remixing than traditional performance. The performance was nevertheless compelling and effective, in part due to the green-screened apocalyptic sky footage being aired behind him, and in part due to the lively chat, in which the community seemed to be eating out of his hand. There was a dynamic nature to the music that really worked.

I like this music on record a tiny bit less - but it is still quite immersive in this presentation, especially with a pair of headphones on to appreciate details of panning, fading, and filtering. Sonically, this is at the extreme edges of dungeon synth. The percussion, quite often of an orchestral or tribal flavor, is at the forefront, and there are some blasts of low brass, 'eastern' stringed instruments and the like mixed in among the more broad cinematic swells and fades, and numerous atmospheric sound effects like crow-calls, sampled dialogue, and water sounds. But it's not purely dark ambient - the heavy percussion adds a lot of momentum to these simple harmonic structures, often what are basically one-or-two chord jams at their core, but brought to life with arpeggiators and pulsing synths. The Lovecraftian and general horror themes are clearly very dear to the creator of this project, and ultimately give this music a sense of focus. The opening, titular track of this record really sets the tone of the album, and without setting an exact formula which the artist then repeats 7 more times to fill out a full length release.

The sound design is excellent and thoughtful, and is clearly the main focus of this music. "A Mountain Walked ft. Murazor" shows a lot of reliance on samples, psychedelic transitions, and effects. As someone with more of a disconnect from this style of music creation, I find myself really appreciating the more straightforward selections of melody, like the sitar-like samples on the title track, or the piano waltz that drives "Vast Plains of Madness". I have to admit that as much as I miss what to me feels like pure composition, I marvel at the full range of producer-style effects that inject drama into these tracks (like the extremely compelling way "Madness" eventually dissolves into trippy nothingness).

I review this release on the back of the Cybard release as an example of how the concept of dungeon synth as an evocative and transportative music can indeed stretch and survive as artists without a pure DS or Black Metal background come exploring these realms, bringing new influences and production techniques with them. But where Cybard seemed a bit more blunt in both its composition and execution, Lurk has a sense of sonic ambiguity that allows my mind to wander in the way I want from a DS release. Maybe I am a little alienated at times by what feels like a relative lack of melody, and maybe the sampled dialogue does make it a little harder to have this music as a soundtrack for reading - but the sonic construction and intent to evoke is spot on. Perhaps we can favorably view Lurk and producers of his ilk as "Great Old Ones", and welcome the dissolution of the known that they bring, especially when the result is this effective.

[sons-of-dagon]

the lore of sons of dagon

The sons of dagon were  apart of the unknown founding and their origin lies in the depths of the Old Night. And was neutral with a xenos race known as the Abyss Eaters until the emperor of mankind's armies arrived and gave the once bleak underwater planet of insmuth hope and the marines want to bring the hope the emperor gave them so they slaughtered the abyss eaters of insmuth yet more still lie deep into the ocean of many worlds.

Insmuth or r’lyeh in their own language is a vicious and violent world in terms of the fauna that live in the ocean planet there is no islands or land mass above the sea only the seafloor is what thrives.

The hive city  of Y'ha-nthlei the capital of the planet is mostly a port town selling the skins of many of the fauna to rogue traders which was founded by a man who has met the emperor and was the son of the previous mayor named Obed Marsh which have started to improve their living style and to this day the marsh family has ran the hive world to ups and downs filled with horrible mutants from the underhive to upmost no one as ever seen  one of the  mutants nicknamed the shark eater  seemed to have lived as long as the dark age and has  the strength some compared to a primarch although less intelligent then one  which  has rows of sharp teeth similar to a shark and his father was a abyss eater who had left before the marsh family fully twisted it around and guides the mutants and gangs and rounds them up and killing them to skin off to devour the flesh and later the skin is given to the lower hive which is used for some of the insmuthian ritual. which is a ritual more horrible  than a normal cult for the emperor as many priests wear the skins of the abyss eater human hybrids that live in the underhive eating the flesh of the deceased abyss eaters and killing many psykers and some abyss eaters and mutants to please the emperor's thirst for psychic energy and feeding the black blood of a abyss eater  so it can later be sent to hopefully find a  summon a piece of the emperors power so they can  later reform the emperor's scattered soul and bring a new golden age of humanity and insmuth.

The insmuth folk before the ritual of the emperor had mated with the fish people and spawned the abyss eater hybrids that lurk yet it was often that before the emperor arrived there was a ton of hybrids which later were killed and were given many other humans that joined to fix the issue which  had gills  glassy unblinking eyes and dark gray or pale skin and also slightly shrunken eyes How ever the lower and  underhive have more of the abyss eaters traits and are deemed useless in the long run in their eyes  and are ignored just to continue the trail of the humanity that they want in the end for the greater good of humanity (not to the t’au). And the most pure of their children become the sons of dagon although with some of the traits like the shrunken eyes and sometimes the gills if things didn't go fully well with the gene seed manufacturing. The sons of dagon are just as much of a zealot as their homeworld and even become priests for it if it's a important ritual as they do the ritual at the ships which is   mandatory if they raid a abyss eater colony as it will purify the warp from their wretched existence and to atone for many sins of their pasts as the black blood of a abyss eater is similar to a access to the warp itself though the blood can enter it which to them they believe will interest a shard to being summoned and bringing a piece of the emperor with them to save what is left of their god

The moon of insmuth called yogshugg is a forge world and is often where they ship the supplies for the people and there is a few towns on the thriving  planet that has actual landmass and is also where the admech come from for their need

The f' ahf' lllln'gha or  the abyss eaters are fish like entities who seem to worship a pantheon that connect to the warp itself which gives them a chaos like  aura in their psyker’s powers and later joined the t’au as the sea race for aquatic combat

The sons of dagon usually recruit children from the moon itself from the land dwellers to later become the sons of dagon how ever the shadow sons of azaron will lurk in the depths watching The Children of azaron are considered heretical in the insmuthian history as priests to the dark god of azaron a personification of the end times itself this chaos chapter are known as outcasts as they were apart of the abyss eater human hybrids f that had died a long time ago  and also deny dagon as he was the one who demonized their god azaron as he used to represent what dagon later became similar to christianity demonizing pan for looking like the devil and plans to make the entire galaxy pay for what they have done to azaron which later became a daemon prince of tzeentch due to manifestation from the thoughts and beliefs thousands of years ago currently they are searching for a right host to summon their god to give them a host but so far the research of finding what is considered the vulgtmor ehye or the sacrifice one and are often searching for some clues for the one that is listed as the sacrifice one often found with a mark on the persons body  and carve the flesh of the                person to activate the ritual and finally summon and bring upon the end times upon the world

[nuttersincorporated]

Alive without breath, as cold a death

Short fanfic based on a line from the latest episode of the Longbox of the Damned. The riddle used comes from The Hobbit.

Warning: Moarte goes deep under the sea. It doesn’t harm him or anything but if the thought of reading about it makes you uncomfortable, you might want to give this one a miss.

“Although, considering the series is called ‘Supernatural Thrillers,’ I wouldn’t hold my breath… assuming I still needed to breathe. I do it for fun.”

That was a lie.

When he was somewhere that had air, Moarte breathed as a reminder to himself. It was a habit he had chosen to continue because he could. It reminded him of a time when he’d still needed to.

Moarte had been the guardian of the Longbox of the Damned for so long now that his memory of what it felt like to be truly alive had started to slip. At first, the change from human to ghoul had been terrible.

Most of the time, humans were unaware of their own heartbeat and the hot blood running in their veins. That hadn’t stopped Moarte from being acutely aware of the absence of movement from the now dead organ for weeks after his heart had stopped. Its lack of motion had felt wrong, even if it hadn’t hurt him. It was like suddenly becoming deaf. There was no pain but it had been disconcerting and bad, bad, bad.

Eventually, he’d got used to it. His body had warped and twisted into something neither alive or dead. His heart did not beat and his skin was cold but his flesh did not rot.

On the plus side, Moarte no longer felt the cold… or he always felt the cold and it simply no longer bothered him. He was never sure which was true or worse.

Now Moarte could hardly remember what it felt like to have warm blood pumping through his veins or hot breath filling his lungs. He needed to breathe to talk and that was it. He didn’t need to breathe to stay alive and even if he did the breath was the same temperature as the air around him. Mostly, he did it anyway.

Sometimes though, Moarte would walk into the sea carrying the Longbox of the Damned (water did not harm the Longbox). He would walk and walk until the sun could no longer penetrate the depths. Then he would sit alone in the dark, only disturbed by the occasional deep sea bioluminescent fish.

Occasionally, while walking deep under the sea, Moarte had seen great underwater cities filled with beings. He’d seen both Y'ha-nthlei home of the Deep Ones and Finfolkaheem the winter home of the Finfolk. However, the moment he’d seen them, Moarte had changed direction and had never been tempted to get closer.

It was his duty to protect the Longbox of the Damned from falling into the wrong hands. Normally that meant human hands but not always. There was no telling what damage the underwater folk could cause with the Longbox.

Once, long ago, Moarte had been foolish enough to believe that there could be ‘the right hands’ to protect the world from the Longbox and the Longbox from the world. Now he knew better. There was no such thing as the right hands. No matter the intention of the Longbox’s owner/slave when they first came into possession of it, eventually it would warp them until they were the wrong hands.

Moarte had never truly understood what the Longbox of the Damned wanted. Sometimes, it would almost seem to be on his side. It gave him gifts and led him to places that were almost worth the sacrifices he’d needed to make. Other times, it was actively malevolent even to him.

First, it had stolen his life and given him this pale comparison where he continued on, neither truly alive or dead. The change to his mind had come slower. Moarte could feel it corrupting his thoughts.

One day, it would turn him into the wrong hands but for now he could still remember that he wasn’t to use it for the wrong reasons. Moarte had to protect the Longbox of the Damned until he could no longer remember why he wasn’t using it.

He loved and hated the Longbox and he would be doubly damned if he let it fall into the hands of someone who’d misuse it or someone would have to suffer this burden.

Moarte liked the sea. It was quiet and peaceful underneath it. He couldn’t stay there indefinitely. If he was alone too long, he could feel the Longbox poisoning his mind quicker. However, sometimes it was nice to relax down there for a while. He didn’t have to worry about constant attacks as people tried to take the Longbox from him.

One day, deep, deep beneath the ocean and surrounded by a shoal of bioluminescent fish currently undiscovered by humans, the Longbox of the Damned started whispering to Moarte. The words didn’t enter through the ears but arrived straight in the mind.

Alive without breath, As cold as death; Never thirsty, ever drinking, All in mail never clinking.

No sound could be heard as Moarte giggled at the words. Even if sound had been able to travel the same way that deep underwater, his lungs had already been filled with water for days. He looked at the fish and laughed harder. ‘Alive without breath,’ why he could almost be among kin.

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