More thoughts on the gods of the Onderland
Mythos and the Onderland Campaign
In the annals of science fiction and horror fiction (sometimes collectively referred to as “weird fictionâ€), none stand out so much as the works of H.P. Lovecraft and what became known as the Cthulhu Mythos.
Millions or even billions of years ago, creatures, god-like beings from other stars, came to the Onderland and ruled over a myriad of bizarre creatures before either leaving or descending into an eons-long slumber whence they are now beginning to stir once more to consciousness. The Mythos can be introduced into the Onderland with relative ease, as it is more a sense of philosophy than unpronounceable names with apostrophes in unlikely places. One of the misconceptions about the Mythos (and one which plagued even many of Lovecraft’s contemporaries) is that it is about horror drawn from the unusual.
While the supernatural and otherworldly nature of many of the Mythos’s creatures and figures are, of course, bizarre enough to drive most men to insanity, what really sets the Mythos apart is the sense that there are forces at work in the cosmos that are at best indifferent to the lives and desires of mere mortals. At worst, they see mortals as sources of amusement (through their hideous deaths) or food (ditto).
The Mythos (or something invented by you as game master which stands analogous to or derived from it) need not be the focus of your Onderland campaign. Even if you decide to include some Lovecraftian themes, these can take the form of small degenerate cults, or solitary sorcerer-sages driven mad by the burden of their knowledge, and cosmic forces straining at the outskirts not only of civilization but reality as we know it, trying to get back in.
One of the central themes of Lovecraft’s original works is that final confirmation of the true nature of the universe through the act of seeing it first hand is sufficient to drive even the most jaded student of the occult to the extremes of insanity.
Most characters in a world tinged by the Mythos are secure and comfortable in the society-imposed myth that the universe is benign and follows regular rules, placing humanity and its close allies at the center of importance in the working of the world. (Those myths will likely be rocked to their foundations during the course of play in a Mythos-tainted campaign.) Witnessing particular sights or learning particular insights into the true nature of the universe would, in turn, result in the loss of one’s sanity, permanently.
Bear in mind that these are not the truths that demons exist, and can assume hideous forms. Such is part and parcel of everyday Ondish existence. The minds of most, especially adventuring types, are made of sterner stuff.
That begs the question; in the Onderland where sorcerers hurl elemental forces from their fingertips, what could possibly threaten the sanity of a hard-bitten adventurer simply by knowledge of its existence?
Indifference.
The sheer knowledge that the world as you know it, as it knows itself, is not only completely a pleasant veneer over an awful reality, but also that the true underlying nature of the universe doesn’t care a single iota about the individual’s desires or very existence. That the character and all he knows are simply shadows of reality at best, and that the true reality undergirding that which the character knows wouldn’t even think to consider whether it should care. Even a universe with room for demons and arch-devils follows some basic rules of reality. The true universe of the Mythos, and those creatures which are aware of, and inhabit that true reality, does not even follow those rules.
When confronted with this concept on a serious intellectual level, the effect can be unnerving. When positive proof that everything the character knew about the universe-- even about his own very existence within it-- is discovered, the effect can be mind-shattering. The creatures of the mythos exist on a moral plane as beyond concepts such as good and evil as a great sage is beyond a grain of rice in intellectual capacity.
Demons and devils are at least evil; the creatures and deities of the Mythos cannot even be called that, for doing so would render them at least partially conceivable to humanity, and that they simply are not.
And what of the minions of these nigh-imponderable forces? What could possibly motivate someone, besides the very depths of madness itself, to cooperate with, let alone serve and hasten the ascendancy of, such forces? Pure and simple ego. Knowing of such forces, their fragile minds revolt against the notion that they-- They Themselves-- could be regarded with such indifference. By playing at serving the Old Ones, they feel a modicum of significance; they are shouting into the void “I shall not be ignored, even if it is only for you to command me!â€
It is left to the discretion of the GM to determine whether they are actually receiving such commands, or whether their fevered minds are simply creating the voices they insist must be out there, acknowledging them…
After all, your Onderland-druid writeup had me immediately thinking of Christopher Lee in that movie.
You are indeed the master!
