[Sorry this is a little rushed, but I had the idea on the way home and thoufgt I would throw it into the mix and see where it splatted...]



The four figures crept slowly down the damp passageways. Torches burned in brackets along the walls, bathing them in a flickering, fetid light. The flickering light have their shadows an unnatural, jerky life of their own.

The first figure – short and hunched - skulked like a champion skulker. For good reason – he had been trained by the best skulker in a family that saw it as but the first rung in a successful career.

The second two figures did not so much skulk as creep. One male, and one female, clinging to each other for some measure of mutual comfort in the dank corridors.

The final figure simply lurched, each limb jerking as if each movement were a vast internal struggle.

The corridor opened out into an equally damp chamber. Statues ringed the room, mercifully in partial shadow from the torches above them. In the center of the room, inside a complex circular design, was a small amulet with a small, greyish pearl imbedded just off-center.

The quartet stopped at the entrance of the room. After a moment’s hesitation, the shorter figure hobbled across the room and addressed the amulet.

"Oi! Wakey wakey! This is your 6:00 alarm call!" yelled Flapjack.

There was no response.

"Is that really a good idea?" hissed Helen. "Waking up creatures sealed in magic circles never ends well. At least, not in the movies I have seen."

Functionary remained silent. There was something not quite right here. And he wasn't thinking of the pattern on the amulet, which appeared to change itself each time he looked away.

"I don't know. Stupid Elder Creatures! No good without Ebony to get them up in the morning!" continued Flapjack, who then concluded his remark with an "Urk!". Impossibly, a huge pseudopodium had snaked out of the pearl and smashed him against one of the statues. The action hadn't improved the statue either. As Flapjack struggled against the wall, the creature that he had disturbed started raging in a language that, although missing constanants and vowels, seemed rather overstocked with sillibants.

"You see?" said Helen shakily. "Release the evil creature sealed away and everything goes wrong!"

"No." said Functionary.

Helen looked at him. So did Flapjack, albeit with more difficulty.

"It's not sealed. That looks like an Elder Sign, but it isn't. They are more glowy. In a not very glowy unholy sort of way."

When did you ever see an Elder Sign? Whatever that is." asked Helen.

"I don't know." Functionary replied honestly. "But they aren't the sort of thing you forget. However much you want to."

"So." observed Flapjack from his position half-way up an eldritch statue. "You aren't actually imprisoned here. So what's stopping you from ufflshnd?"

The final part of the sentence was drowned out by a liberal application of Elder Creature-type slime. The stuff the Shoggoth saved for special occasions.

I would have prevented the Moderator from deleting my High Priestess, it rumbled, but I promised the Hooded Hood that I wouldn't deal with the spawn of a slaver in the way it deserved. And I owe the Hooded Hood a favour. The creature paused for a moment. Or the Hooded Hood owes me a favour. I can never remember which.

In any case, concluded the creature, I cannot help you.. It finished its statement with a short utterance in the unknowable language it had used earlier, as it shrank back into the pearl.

"In that case, we will leave you to your lurking." responded Flapjack, leading the others out of the chamber. Functionary protested for a moment, but was quelled with a warning glance from the hunchback.

Flapjack had a worried expression all the way back to the surface. Alko wasn't his strong suit - it wasn't much called for in his line of work - but, like Latin, there were one or two phrases that the good Henchperson would recognise. The last thing the Shoggoth has said was one of them.

Loosely translated, it was: Until the Stars are Right...