The sight of the linen seemed to affect him in a very singular
manner. He could not be prevailed upon to touch it or go near it,
shuddering when we attempted to force him, and shrieking out,
-- E.A. Poe, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket (1838)
...the nightmare, plastic column of fetid black iridescence,
oozed tightly onward through its fifteen-foot sinus, gathering unholy
speed and driving before it a spiral, rethickening cloud of pallid
abyss vapor. It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any
subway train - a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly
self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and unforming
as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that
bore down on us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the
glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all
litter. Still came that eldritch, mocking cry: 'Tekeli-li!
-- H.P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness (1936)
Tekeli.li discussion forums are here.
Listen to Improvised Radio Theatre - With Dice - a role-playing podcast.
Or to More Games Than Time - a boardgaming podcast.
The Path of Cunning is a GURPS fanzine.
Whartson Hall recordings live here.