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10-06-2010 @ 7:33PM
Iä, iä, [Whatever abyssal monsters the murlocs worship] fhtagn.Seriously, though, murlocs are easily connected to Lovecraft's work-- Basically, they're Deep Ones."I think their predominant color was a greyish-green, though they had white bellies. They were mostly shiny and slippery, but the ridges of their backs were scaly. Their forms vaguely suggested the anthropoid, while their heads were the heads of fish, with prodigious bulging eyes that never closed. At the sides of their necks were palpitating gills, and their long paws were webbed. They hopped irregularly, sometimes on two legs and sometimes on four. I was somehow glad that they had no more than four limbs. Their croaking, baying voices, clearly used for articulate speech, held all the dark shades of expression which their staring faces lacked ... They were the blasphemous fish-frogs of the nameless design - living and horrible.""They are said to serve the beings known as Father Dagon and Mother Hydra, as well as Cthulhu. They are opposed by mysterious beings known as the Old Ones, whose powerful magic can keep them in check.""Father Dagon and Mother Hydra are both minor Great Old Ones; though it is possible that they are merely Deep Ones that have grown abnormally large. Together with Cthulhu, they form the triad of gods worshipped by the Deep Ones. (The name is inspired by Dagon, the Semitic fertility deity.)"Seriously. If you've any Lovecraftian love in you, you're now excited and possibly aroused.Now, then, a bit of a side-track-- The Makrura, 'lobster men', are, I dare say, directly from Stephen King's "The Dark Tower" series, where they were known as lobstrocities."A large, mutant crustacean vaguely resembling a lobster. It has a hard, spiny, dark blue exoskeleton, four pairs of jointed walking legs, a segmented body, sensory antennae, a tail fan, and compound eyes on stalks. It's easily four feet long and nearly two feet wide. They're known as Lobstrosities around these parts, and are vicious meat eaters."Also, they taste delicious.
10-06-2010 @ 8:40PM
Yes it's all very lovecraftian. We've already killed Dagon http://www.wowhead.com/npc=2937/dagun-the-ravenous and C'thun and Yogg-saron sound an awful lot like Cthulu and Yogg-Sothoth.
10-06-2010 @ 9:09PM
They do, yes. But, really, compared to the actual gods fromLovecraft.. Ours are tame, haha. I mean, the gods Lovecraft made wereso massively powerful, they could destroy our entire solar systemwithout caring, or even noticing. The lesser creatures, such as Cthuluand Dagon, would pretty much end humanity should they become free.Just knowing about them would drive most insane. They are so utterlybeyond our ken, we can't even pretend to give them personalities.While warcraft's writers are good, they're not good enough, when itcomes to Lovecraftian horror, to really deliver. Plus, they're heavilyrestricted. Even Knaack isn't allowed to make something on the scaleof most of Lovecraft's creations. And he's Knaack!Also..That is not dead which can eternal lieAnd with strange æons, even death may die..;)
10-07-2010 @ 6:04AM
Not to mention that "Azeroth" sounds very much like ... "Azathoth".Omg :O
10-08-2010 @ 3:01PM
I just shat bricks now.
10-08-2010 @ 7:39PM
"Outside the ordered universe is that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity—the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes.""At the seething and fiery centerHe sits upon his ebon throneWithin his halls of darknessWhich no man has seen and survived the visionBoth blind and bereft of mindHe pipes unceasingly on his reed fluteAnd the notes that rise and fall in measured patternsAre the foundations of all the worldsEver calculating in sound the structure of space and timeWere his flute ever to suddenly fall silentAll the spheres would shatter into one anotherAnd the myriads of worldsWould be unmadeAs they were before creationThe flute of the blind idiotBoth makes and unmakes the worlds in ceaselessCombinationsSpinning on the woven carpet of timeNo creation without destructionNo destruction without creationTo unmake a thing is to make anotherEach time a thing is madeAnother is destroyedThe idiot god on his black throneDoes not chooseWhat shall rise into beingAnd what should pass awayHe cares only to maintainHis mindless unholy music ofRandom creation and destructionNo living creature can look upon his faceAnd endure its terrible heatAnd black radianceThat is like the reverberating unseen rays of molten ironWhich strike and burn the skinOf those who would dareGaze into the countenance of the idiot godNever does he receive supplicantsIn his black halls of uncouth angles and strange doorsNor does he ever hear prayers or answer themEndlessly he pipesAnd endlessly he devours his own substanceFor his hunger is insatiableAs he consumes his own wastes after the custom of idiotsAs the god createsSo he destroys"
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