2008年03月

2008年03月30日

クトゥルフ神話〜第3回クトゥルフ・オンリーコン(Co-Con)開催!

クトゥルフ神話〜第3回クトゥルフ・オンリーコン(Co-Con)開催!

★クトゥルフ神話のTRPGの集い<クトゥルフ・オンリーコン>の第3回目開催のお知らせです。

日時:2008年4月26日(土)
場所:池袋 旧日出小学校 レクリエーションルーム
参加費:500円
開場・受付:11:00〜11:30
完全撤収:19:30

テーブルシステム関連

幕末:Cthulhu in 幕末日本 (特別ゲスト:朱鷺田祐介)
<スタッフ>
953年:ダークエイジ
現代アメリカ:BRP版
天慶6(943)年:比叡山炎上
現代日本:BRP版
現代日本:基本+Secret of Japan
<一般公募>
1917年:クトゥルフと帝國
昭和50年代:クトゥルフ神話TRPG

プレイヤー募集(募集人員:40名弱、募集期限4/24)

詳細は公式サイト(以下アドレス)でご確認下さい。

クトゥルフ・オンリーコンベンション
http://wiki.livedoor.jp/co_con/d/FrontPage

廃校でのコンベンション…しかも3回目…システムも時代背景も多彩です。
個人的にはそれも好きですが、特に昭和が…

昭和クトゥルフは昭和の男(漢・雄)にはたまりません…



blueorb at 23:47|PermalinkComments(0)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月25日

クトゥルフ神話〜訃報:Gary Gygax

d2c0dd1f.jpgクトゥルフ神話〜訃報:Gary Gygax

★多くの方が一度は聞いたことがあるTRPG「ダンジョンズ&ドラゴンズ」通称D&D…そのオリジナルの製作者のひとりGary Gygaxが今月の4日にお亡くなりになったという記事に遭遇いたしました。以下D&D公式サイト(日本語)より

 オリジナルの『ダンジョンズ&ドラゴンズ』の製作者のひとり、Gary Gygax氏が、さる3月4日(米国時間)に永眠されました。享年69歳。
 Gary Gygax氏は、1974年に世界最初のテーブルトークRPG『Dungeons and Dragons』をDave Arneson氏と共著し、あらたな遊びを世界に提供されました。
 心から御冥福をお祈り申し上げます。

そして彼の偉業に対して各ゲーム系サイトでは、この訃報について記述があります。ケイオシアムHPやファンタジーフフライトゲームズ等での記事も書確認できます。以下ファンタジーフライトゲームズのサイトより


Yesterday, I learned the sad news that Gary Gygax had passed away. Despite the faceted and labyrinthine ways that our industry has wound itself over during the last 35 years, Gary undoubtedly was one of the giants upon whose shoulders we all stood. As the creator (with Dave Arneson) of D&D, his influences moved beyond pen-and-paper RPG's and are to be found in every corner of the gaming business today (both the paper-based and the software flavor), and certainly in many of our products.

When I grew up in Denmark, his name was the lejendary*, almost mystic, signatory printed in white font on the cover of my hardcover AD&D books. In the gaming desert that was Copenhagen in 1984, this sage with an "x" in his last name, was to us the supreme prophet in the faraway gaming oasis of "Lake Geneva."

A few years after my first D&D experiences, as the second generation of role-playing games arose, I clearly remember one "Viking Con" (Denmark's pre-eminent gaming convention) where geek-rebels, armed with Call of Cthulhu, MERP, and TOON (and others), boldly declared that "Gygax was dead" as they reveled in the new shiny book baubles. They spoke of the rise of a higher form, a higher art, of role-play, perceiving these new games to somehow be superior to the mundane tunnel-delving and dragon slaying of their recently expired gaming virginity.

Most of these guys and girls soon grew older, got educated, got children, left gaming. But I can guarantee you that many of these former RPG-intellectuals were among the first to quietly sneak into their local Barnes and Noble to procure up a copy of the D&D 3rd Edition Players Handbook.

These players weren't returning to experience the higher art of critical hit tables, skill-based (or percentile based) character development, or even dice-less storytelling. They wanted to experience, once again, that raw power of chasing gold in the dark, of fighting kobolds with mighty cleaves, of casting magic arrows into the belly of evil beasts. To taste again the simple pleasure of gaining a level, of choosing that cool new spell.

For sure, others have honed, polished, and improved upon the gaming form that Gary and his team pioneered. A veritable smorgasbord of RPG's have washed across the gaming industry over the past 20 years, to which FFG has contributed some. Yet for all the art and innovation, these waters all flowed over the solid bedrock that was D&D. Now, when virtually every one of those "newer" games are taking dirt-naps (or crawl along in a reincarnated ghoulish form), D&D remains. This year, the game will show its vibrancy in the release of 4th edition of D&D, an event that will undoubtedly be one of the highlights in the hobby games industry.

Now that the great Dungeon master really is gone, we brandish no other RPG's in triumph. Instead, we gently put them down, even if only temporarily.

We walk to the bookshelf. Dust off some of the old books with orange spines. Thankful for what they gave us.

Thankful to Gary for leaving them behind.

Christian T. Petersen
CEO
Fantasy Flight Games

*Spelled with a "j" in Gary's honor.


D&Dをお持ちの方はページの最初をご確認下さい。氏のクレジットが確認できると思います。全世界で愛されているD&D…偉業です。
ご冥福をお祈り申し上げます。



blueorb at 23:35|PermalinkComments(0)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月24日

クトゥルフ神話〜The Nameless City

クトゥルフ神話〜The Nameless City

★The Nameless City(無名都市)


When I drew nigh the nameless city I knew it was accursed. I was traveling in a parched and terrible valley under the moon, and afar I saw it protruding uncannily above the sands as parts of a corpse may protrude from an ill-made grave. Fear spoke from the age-worn stones of this hoary survivor of the deluge, this great-grandfather of the eldest pyramid; and a viewless aura repelled me and bade me retreat from antique and sinister secrets that no man should see, and no man else had dared to see.

Remote in the desert of Araby lies the nameless city, crumbling and inarticulate, its low walls nearly hidden by the sands of uncounted ages. It must have been thus before the first stones of Memphis were laid, and while the bricks of Babylon were yet unbaked. There is no legend so old as to give it a name, or to recall that it was ever alive; but it is told of in whispers around campfires and muttered about by grandams in the tents of sheiks so that all the tribes shun it without wholly knowing why. It was of this place that Abdul Alhazred the mad poet dreamed of the night before he sang his unexplained couplet:

That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons death may die.

I should have known that the Arabs had good reason for shunning the nameless city, the city told of in strange tales but seen by no living man, yet I defied them and went into the untrodden waste with my camel. I alone have seen it, and that is why no other face bears such hideous lines of fear as mine; why no other man shivers so horribly when the night wind rattles the windows. When I came upon it in the ghastly stillness of unending sleep it looked at me, chilly from the rays of a cold moon amidst the desert's heat. And as I returned its look I forgot my triumph at finding it, and stopped still with my camel to wait for the dawn.

For hours I waited, till the east grew grey and the stars faded, and the grey turned to roseate light edged with gold. I heard a moaning and saw a storm of sand stirring among the antique stones though the sky was clear and the vast reaches of desert still. Then suddenly above the desert's far rim came the blazing edge of the sun, seen through the tiny sandstorm which was passing away, and in my fevered state I fancied that from some remote depth there came a crash of musical metal to hail the fiery disc as Memnon hails it from the banks of the Nile. My ears rang and my imagination seethed as I led my camel slowly across the sand to that unvocal place; that place which I alone of living men had seen.

In and out amongst the shapeless foundations of houses and places I wandered, finding never a carving or inscription to tell of these men, if men they were, who built this city and dwelt therein so long ago. The antiquity of the spot was unwholesome, and I longed to encounter some sign or device to prove that the city was indeed fashioned by mankind. There were certain proportions and dimensions in the ruins which I did not like. I had with me many tools, and dug much within the walls of the obliterated edifices; but progress was slow, and nothing significant was revealed. When night and the moon returned I felt a chill wind which brought new fear, so that I did not dare to remain in the city. And as I went outside the antique walls to sleep, a small sighing sandstorm gathered behind me, blowing over the grey stones though the moon was bright and most of the desert still.

I awakened just at dawn from a pageant of horrible dreams, my ears ringing as from some metallic peal. I saw the sun peering redly through the last gusts of a little sandstorm that hovered over the nameless city, and marked the quietness of the rest of the landscape. Once more I ventured within those brooding ruins that swelled beneath the sand like an ogre under a coverlet, and again dug vainly for relics of the forgotten race. At noon I rested, and in the afternoon I spent much time tracing the walls and bygone streets, and the outlines of the nearly vanished buildings. I saw that the city had been mighty indeed, and wondered at the sources of its greatness. To myself I pictured all the spendours of an age so distant that Chaldaea could not recall it, and thought of Sarnath the Doomed, that stood in the land of Mnar when mankind was young, and of Ib, that was carven of grey stone before mankind existed.

All at once I came upon a place where the bedrock rose stark through the sand and formed a low cliff; and here I saw with joy what seemed to promise further traces of the antediluvian people. Hewn rudely on the face of the cliff were the unmistakable facades of several small, squat rock houses or temples; whose interiors might preserve many secrets of ages too remote for calculation, though sandstorms had long effaced any carvings which may have been outside.

Very low and sand-choked were all the dark apertures near me, but I cleared one with my spade and crawled through it, carrying a torch to reveal whatever mysteries it might hold. When I was inside I saw that the cavern was indeed a temple, and beheld plain signs of the race that had lived and worshipped before the desert was a desert. Primitive altars, pillars, and niches, all curiously low, were not absent; and though I saw no sculptures or frescoes, there were many singular stones clearly shaped into symbols by artificial means. The lowness of the chiselled chamber was very strange, for I could hardly kneel upright; but the area was so great that my torch showed only part of it at a time. I shuddered oddly in some of the far corners; for certain altars and stones suggested forgotten rites of terrible, revolting and inexplicable nature and made me wonder what manner of men could have made and frequented such a temple. When I had seen all that the place contained, I crawled out again, avid to find what the temples might yield.

Night had now approached, yet the tangible things I had seen made curiosity stronger than fear, so that I did not flee from the long mooncast shadows that had daunted me when first I saw the nameless city. In the twilight I cleared another aperture and with a new torch crawled into it, finding more vague stones and symbols, though nothing more definite than the other temple had contained. The room was just as low, but much less broad, ending in a very narrow passage crowded with obscure and cryptical shrines. About these shrines I was prying when the noise of a wind and my camel outside broke through the stillness and drew me forth to see what could have frightened the beast.

The moon was gleaming vividly over the primitive ruins, lighting a dense cloud of sand that seemed blown by a strong but decreasing wind from some point along the cliff ahead of me. I knew it was this chilly, sandy wind which had disturbed the camel and was about to lead him to a place of better shelter when I chanced to glance up and saw that there was no wind atop the cliff. This astonished me and made me fearful again, but I immediately recalled the sudden local winds that I had seen and heard before at sunrise and sunset, and judged it was a normal thing. I decided it came from some rock fissure leading to a cave, and watched the troubled sand to trace it to its source; soon perceiving that it came from the black orifice of a temple a long distance south of me, almost out of sight. Against the choking sand-cloud I plodded toward this temple, which as I neared it loomed larger than the rest, and shewed a doorway far less clogged with caked sand. I would have entered had not the terrific force of the icy wind almost quenched my torch. It poured madly out of the dark door, sighing uncannily as it ruffled the sand and spread among the weird ruins. Soon it grew fainter and the sand grew more and more still, till finally all was at rest again; but a presence seemed stalking among the spectral stones of the city, and when I glanced at the moon it seemed to quiver as though mirrored in unquiet waters. I was more afraid than I could explain, but not enough to dull my thirst for wonder; so as soon as the wind was quite gone I crossed into the dark chamber from which it had come.

This temple, as I had fancied from the outside, was larger than either of those I had visited before; and was presumably a natural cavern since it bore winds from some region beyond. Here I could stand quite upright, but saw that the stones and altars were as low as those in the other temples. On the walls and roof I beheld for the first time some traces of the pictorial art of the ancient race, curious curling streaks of paint that had almost faded or crumbled away; and on two of the altars I saw with rising excitement a maze of well-fashioned curvilinear carvings. As I held my torch aloft it seemed to me that the shape of the roof was too regular to be natural, and I wondered what the prehistoric cutters of stone had first worked upon. Their engineering skill must have been vast.

Then a brighter flare of the fantastic flame showed that form which I had been seeking, the opening to those remoter abysses whence the sudden wind had blown; and I grew faint when I saw that it was a small and plainly artificial door chiselled in the solid rock. I thrust my torch within, beholding a black tunnel with the roof arching low over a rough flight of very small, numerous and steeply descending steps. I shall always see those steps in my dreams, for I came to learn what they meant. At the time I hardly knew whether to call them steps or mere footholds in a precipitous descent. My mind was whirling with mad thoughts, and the words and warning of Arab prophets seemed to float across the desert from the land that men know to the nameless city that men dare not know. Yet I hesitated only for a moment before advancing through the portal and commencing to climb cautiously down the steep passage, feet first, as though on a ladder.

It is only in the terrible phantasms of drugs or delirium that any other man can have such a descent as mine. The narrow passage led infinitely down like some hideous haunted well, and the torch I held above my head could not light the unknown depths toward which I was crawling. I lost track of the hours and forgot to consult my watch, though I was frightened when I thought of the distance I must be traversing. There were changes of direction and of steepness; and once I came to a long, low, level passage where I had to wriggle my feet first along the rocky floor, holding torch at arm's length beyond my head. The place was not high enough for kneeling. After that were more of the steep steps, and I was still scrambling down interminably when my failing torch died out. I do not think I noticed it at the time, for when I did notice it I was still holding it above me as if it were ablaze. I was quite unbalanced with that instinct for the strange and the unknown which had made me a wanderer upon earth and a haunter of far, ancient, and forbidden places.

In the darkness there flashed before my mind fragments of my cherished treasury of daemonic lore; sentences from Alhazred the mad Arab, paragraphs from the apocryphal nightmares of Damascius, and infamous lines from the delirious Image du Monde of Gauthier de Metz. I repeated queer extracts, and muttered of Afrasiab and the daemons that floated with him down the Oxus; later chanting over and over again a phrase from one of Lord Dunsany's tales--"The unreveberate blackness of the abyss." Once when the descent grew amazingly steep I recited something in sing-song from Thomas Moore until I feared to recite more:

A reservoir of darkness, black
As witches' cauldrons are, when fill'd
With moon-drugs in th' eclipse distill'd
Leaning to look if foot might pass
Down thro' that chasm, I saw, beneath,
As far as vision could explore,
The jetty sides as smooth as glass,
Looking as if just varnish'd o'er
With that dark pitch the Seat of Death
Throws out upon its slimy shore.

Time had quite ceased to exist when my feet again felt a level floor, and I found myself in a place slightly higher than the rooms in the two smaller temples now so incalculably far above my head. I could not quite stand, but could kneel upright, and in the dark I shuffled and crept hither and thither at random. I soon knew that I was in a narrow passage whose walls were lined with cases of wood having glass fronts. As in that Palaeozoic and abysmal place I felt of such things as polished wood and glass I shuddered at the possible implications. The cases were apparently ranged along each side of the passage at regular intervals, and were oblong and horizontal, hideously like coffins in shape and size. When I tried to move two or three for further examination, I found that they were firmly fastened.

I saw that the passage was a long one, so floundered ahead rapidly in a creeping run that would have seemed horrible had any eye watched me in the blackness; crossing from side to side occasionally to feel of my surroundings and be sure the walls and rows of cases still stretched on. Man is so used to thinking visually that I almost forgot the darkness and pictured the endless corridor of wood and glass in its low-studded monotony as though I saw it. And then in a moment of indescribable emotion I did see it.

Just when my fancy merged into real sight I cannot tell; but there came a gradual glow ahead, and all at once I knew that I saw the dim outlines of a corridor and the cases, revealed by some unknown subterranean phosphorescence. For a little while all was exactly as I had imagined it, since the glow was very faint; but as I mechanically kept stumbling ahead into the stronger light I realised that my fancy had been but feeble. This hall was no relic of crudity like the temples in the city above, but a monument of the most magnificent and exotic art. Rich, vivid, and daringly fantastic designs and pictures formed a continuous scheme of mural paintings whose lines and colours were beyond description. The cases were of a strange golden wood, with fronts of exquisite glass, and containing the mummified forms of creatures outreaching in grotesqueness the most chaotic dreams of man.

To convey any idea of these monstrosities is impossible. They were of the reptile kind, with body lines suggesting sometimes the crocodile, sometimes the seal, but more often nothing of which either the naturalist or the palaeontologist ever heard. In size they approximated a small man, and their fore-legs bore delicate and evident feet curiously like human hands and fingers. But strangest of all were their heads, which presented a contour violating all know biological principles. To nothing can such things be well compared - in one flash I thought of comparisons as varied as the cat, the bullfrog, the mythic Satyr, and the human being. Not Jove himself had had so colossal and protuberant a forehead, yet the horns and the noselessness and the alligator-like jaw placed things outside all established categories. I debated for a time on the reality of the mummies, half suspecting they were artificial idols; but soon decided they were indeed some palaeogean species which had lived when the nameless city was alive. To crown their grotesqueness, most of them were gorgeously enrobed in the costliest of fabrics, and lavishly laden with ornaments of gold, jewels, and unknown shining metals.

The importance of these crawling creatures must have been vast, for they held first place among the wild designs on the frescoed walls and ceiling. With matchless skill had the artist drawn them in a world of their own, wherein they had cities and gardens fashioned to suit their dimensions; and I could not help but think that their pictured history was allegorical, perhaps shewing the progress of the race that worshipped them. These creatures, I said to myself, were to men of the nameless city what the she-wolf was to Rome, or some totem-beast is to a tribe of Indians.

Holding this view, I could trace roughly a wonderful epic of the nameless city; the tale of a mighty seacoast metropolis that ruled the world before Africa rose out of the waves, and of its struggles as the sea shrank away, and the desert crept into the fertile valley that held it. I saw its wars and triumphs, its troubles and defeats, and afterwards its terrible fight against the desert when thousands of its people - here represented in allegory by the grotesque reptiles - were driven to chisel their way down though the rocks in some marvellous manner to another world whereof their prophets had told them. It was all vividly weird and realistic, and its connection with the awesome descent I had made was unmistakable. I even recognized the passages.

As I crept along the corridor toward the brighter light I saw later stages of the painted epic - the leave-taking of the race that had dwelt in the nameless city and the valley around for ten million years; the race whose souls shrank from quitting scenes their bodies had known so long where they had settled as nomads in the earth's youth, hewing in the virgin rock those primal shrines at which they had never ceased to worship. Now that the light was better I studied the pictures more closely and, remembering that the strange reptiles must represent the unknown men, pondered upon the customs of the nameless city. Many things were peculiar and inexplicable. The civilization, which included a written alphabet, had seemingly risen to a higher order than those immeasurably later civilizations of Egypt and Chaldaea, yet there were curious omissions. I could, for example, find no pictures to represent deaths or funeral customs, save such as were related to wars, violence, and plagues; and I wondered at the reticence shown concerning natural death. It was as though an ideal of immortality had been fostered as a cheering illusion.

Still nearer the end of the passage was painted scenes of the utmost picturesqueness and extravagance: contrasted views of the nameless city in its desertion and growing ruin, and of the strange new realm of paradise to which the race had hewed its way through the stone. In these views the city and the desert valley were shewn always by moonlight, golden nimbus hovering over the fallen walls, and half-revealing the splendid perfection of former times, shown spectrally and elusively by the artist. The paradisal scenes were almost too extravagant to be believed, portraying a hidden world of eternal day filled with glorious cities and ethereal hills and valleys. At the very last I thought I saw signs of an artistic anticlimax. The paintings were less skillful, and much more bizarre than even the wildest of the earlier scenes. They seemed to record a slow decadence of the ancient stock, coupled with a growing ferocity toward the outside world from which it was driven by the desert. The forms of the people - always represented by the sacred reptiles - appeared to be gradually wasting away, though their spirit as shewn hovering above the ruins by moonlight gained in proportion. Emaciated priests, displayed as reptiles in ornate robes, cursed the upper air and all who breathed it; and one terrible final scene shewed a primitive-looking man, perhaps a pioneer of ancient Irem, the City of Pillars, torn to pieces by members of the elder race. I remembered how the Arabs fear the nameless city, and was glad that beyond this place the grey walls and ceiling were bare.

As I viewed the pageant of mural history I had approached very closely to the end of the low-ceiled hall, and was aware of a gate through which came all of the illuminating phosphorescence. Creeping up to it, I cried aloud in transcendent amazement at what lay beyond; for instead of other and brighter chambers there was only an illimitable void of uniform radiance, such one might fancy when gazing down from the peak of Mount Everest upon a sea of sunlit mist. Behind me was a passage so cramped that I could not stand upright in it; before me was an infinity of subterranean effulgence.

Reaching down from the passage into the abyss was the head of a steep flight of steps - small numerous steps like those of black passages I had traversed - but after a few feet the glowing vapours concealed everything. Swung back open against the left-hand wall of the passage was a massive door of brass, incredibly thick and decorated with fantastic bas-reliefs, which could if closed shut the whole inner world of light away from the vaults and passages of rock. I looked at the steps, and for the nonce dared not try them. I touched the open brass door, and could not move it. Then I sank prone to the stone floor, my mind aflame with prodigious reflections which not even a death-like exhaustion could banish.

As I lay still with closed eyes, free to ponder, many things I had lightly noted in the frescoes came back to me with new and terrible significance - scenes representing the nameless city in its heyday - the vegetations of the valley around it, and the distant lands with which its merchants traded. The allegory of the crawling creatures puzzled me by its universal prominence, and I wondered that it would be so closely followed in a pictured history of such importance. In the frescoes the nameless city had been shewn in proportions fitted to the reptiles. I wondered what its real proportions and magnificence had been, and reflected a moment on certain oddities I had noticed in the ruins. I thought curiously of the lowness of the primal temples and of the underground corridor, which were doubtless hewn thus out of deference to the reptile deities there honoured; though it perforce reduced the worshippers to crawling. Perhaps the very rites here involved crawling in imitation of the creatures. No religious theory, however, could easily explain why the level passages in that awesome descent should be as low as the temples - or lower, since one could not even kneel in it. As I thought of the crawling creatures, whose hideous mummified forms were so close to me, I felt a new throb of fear. Mental associations are curious, and I shrank from the idea that except for the poor primitive man torn to pieces in the last painting, mine was the only human form amidst the many relics and symbols of the primordial life.

But as always in my strange and roving existence, wonder soon drove out fear; for the luminous abyss and what it might contain presented a problem worthy of the greatest explorer. That a weird world of mystery lay far down that flight of peculiarly small steps I could not doubt, and I hoped to find there those human memorials which the painted corridor had failed to give. The frescoes had pictured unbelievable cities, and valleys in this lower realm, and my fancy dwelt on the rich and colossal ruins that awaited me.

My fears, indeed, concerned the past rather than the future. Not even the physical horror of my position in that cramped corridor of dead reptiles and antediluvian frescoes, miles below the world I knew and faced by another world of eery light and mist, could match the lethal dread I felt at the abysmal antiquity of the scene and its soul. An ancientness so vast that measurement is feeble seemed to leer down from the primal stones and rock-hewn temples of the nameless city, while the very latest of the astounding maps in the frescoes shewed oceans and continents that man has forgotten, with only here and there some vaguely familiar outlines. Of what could have happened in the geological ages since the paintings ceased and the death-hating race resentfully succumbed to decay, no man might say. Life had once teemed in these caverns and in the luminous realm beyond; now I was alone with vivid relics, and I trembled to think of the countless ages through which these relics had kept a silent deserted vigil.

Suddenly there came another burst of that acute fear which had intermittently seized me ever since I first saw the terrible valley and the nameless city under a cold moon, and despite my exhaustion I found myself starting frantically to a sitting posture and gazing back along the black corridor toward the tunnels that rose to the outer world. My sensations were like those which had made me shun the nameless city at night, and were as inexplicable as they were poignant. In another moment, however, I received a still greater shock in the form of a definite sound - the first which had broken the utter silence of these tomb-like depths. It was a deep, low moaning, as of a distant throng of condemned spirits, and came from the direction in which I was staring. Its volume rapidly grew, till it soon reverberated frightfully through the low passage, and at the same time I became conscious of an increasing draught of cold air, likewise flowing from the tunnels and the city above. The touch of this air seemed to restore my balance, for I instantly recalled the sudden gusts which had risen around the mouth of the abyss each sunset and sunrise, one of which had indeed revealed the hidden tunnels to me. I looked at my watch and saw that sunrise was near, so braced myself to resist the gale that was sweeping down to its cavern home as it had swept forth at evening. My fear again waned low, since a natural phenomenon tends to dispel broodings over the unknown.

More and more madly poured the shrieking, moaning night wind into the gulf of the inner earth. I dropped prone again and clutched vainly at the floor for fear of being swept bodily through the open gate into the phosphorescent abyss. Such fury I had not expected, and as I grew aware of an actual slipping of my form toward the abyss I was beset by a thousand new terrors of apprehension and imagination. The malignancy of the blast awakened incredible fancies; once more I compared myself shudderingly to the only human image in that frightful corridor, the man who was torn to pieces by the nameless race, for in the fiendish clawing of the swirling currents there seemed to abide a vindictive rage all the stronger because it was largely impotent. I think I screamed frantically near the last - I was almost mad - but if I did so my cries were lost in the hell-born babel of the howling wind-wraiths. I tried to crawl against the murderous invisible torrent, but I could not even hold my own as I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the unknown world. Finally reason must have wholly snapped; for I fell to babbling over and over that unexplainable couplet of the mad Arab Alhazred, who dreamed of the nameless city:

That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.

Only the grim brooding desert gods know what really took place--what indescribable struggles and scrambles in the dark I endured or what Abaddon guided me back to life, where I must always remember and shiver in the night wind till oblivion - or worse - claims me. Monstrous, unnatural, colossal, was the thing - too far beyond all the ideas of man to be believed except in the silent damnable small hours of the morning when one cannot sleep.

I have said that the fury of the rushing blast was infernal - cacodaemoniacal - and that its voices were hideous with the pent-up viciousness of desolate eternities. Presently these voices, while still chaotic before me, seemed to my beating brain to take articulate form behind me; and down there in the grave of unnumbered aeon-dead antiquities, leagues below the dawn-lit world of men, I heard the ghastly cursing and snarling of strange-tongued fiends. Turning, I saw outlined against the luminous aether of the abyss what could not be seen against the dusk of the corridor - a nightmare horde of rushing devils; hate distorted, grotesquely panoplied, half transparent devils of a race no man might mistake - the crawling reptiles of the nameless city.

And as the wind died away I was plunged into the ghoul-pooled darkness of earth's bowels; for behind the last of the creatures the great brazen door clanged shut with a deafening peal of metallic music whose reverberations swelled out to the distant world to hail the rising sun as Memnon hails it from the banks of the Nile.





blueorb at 23:28|PermalinkComments(0)TrackBack(0)H・P・LOVECRAFT 

2008年03月23日

クトゥルフ神話〜カーターの帰還(銀の鍵の門を越えて)

クトゥルフ神話〜カーターの帰還(銀の鍵の門を越えて)

★銀の鍵の門を越えてより

---そしてついに、星々の形造る輪郭が、カーターの知っている地球の星座に近いものになったのです。
「いつの日か太陽系へのカーターの降下のお話しできるかもしれません。カーターは太陽系の周縁にキュナルス星とユゴス星を目にし、海王星を通過してその表面をまだらにしている地獄めいた白い黴を瞥見し、木星の霧を間近に見たことからとても詳らかにできない秘密を知り、木星の衛星の一つでは恐怖を目にし、そして火星の赤い輪郭面の上に不規則に広がる巨石建造物の廃墟を見つめました。地球が近づいてくると、驚くほど大きくふくれあがっている薄い三日月形として地球を見たのです。故郷にもどることで胸にあふれるさまざまな気持ちが、一瞬であれ減速するのをやめさせようとしましたが、カーターはどうにか速度をゆるめました。カーターの胸にあふれるさまざまな気持ちがどういうものであったか、わたしがカーターから知ったものを、ここでお話するつもりはありません。




blueorb at 23:13|PermalinkComments(2)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月20日

クトゥルフ神話〜アーサー・C・クラーク氏が・・・

クトゥルフ神話〜アーサー・C・クラーク氏が・・・

★NEWSや新聞でもご覧になり、ご存知の方も多いと思いますが、アーサー・C・クラーク氏がお亡くなりになりました。享年90歳。以下NEWS記事抜粋です。

英国人小説家アーサー・C・クラーク氏が19日、移住先のスリランカで死去した。享年90歳、死因は心肺機能不全。ロバート・A・ハインライン、アイザック・アシモフとともに三大家とされた同氏の死去により、SF小説の1つの時代が終わった。

クラーク氏は、英国サマセット州マインヘッドで1917年に誕生。成人後は英国空軍の将校としてレーダーの開発に従事したのち、ロンドン大学キングス・カレッジで物理学と数学の学位を取得、教員として勤務する傍ら1946年に「太陽系最後の日」でプロ作家としてデビュー。1952年に発表した「幼年期の終わり」でSF作家としての地位を確立、後年「宇宙のランデヴー」と「楽園の泉」の2作品がヒューゴー賞とネビュラ賞を同時受賞 (1973年、1979年) 、名声を確かなものとした。1998年には、エリザベス女王よりナイトの称号を授与されている。
作家としての活動以外にも、静止軌道上の衛星間通信に関する論文を科学雑誌「Wireless World」へ寄稿、後年実用化されるなど、科学技術に対する鋭い洞察と見識の高さで知られる。
1960年代後半には、故スタンリー・キューブリック監督とともに映画「2001年宇宙の旅」 (1968年公開) を制作。地球外文明との遭遇と人類の進化をテーマとした本作は、SF映画の記念碑的存在として現在も高く評価されている。
クラーク氏の訃報に接しアメリカ航空宇宙局 (NASA) は、「地球での個人的な旅は終わりを告げたが、彼のビジョンは著作を通じて生き続けるだろう」との声明を発表している。

マイコミジャーナルより抜粋。
自分はクラーク氏のSFを中学時代に読みふけり、トラベラー(TRPG)のシナリオ作成に参考にしたり、世界観を堪能していました。昨日のことのように思います。当時はクトゥルフとトラベラーにハマっていた時で、凄い宇宙やSFに興味を持っていたのを思いだします。でもクラークの映画「2001年宇宙の旅」は名作だったし衝撃を受けましたが、自分が生まれる前の作品なのに、今見ても斬新です。でもNASAのコメントがクラークの偉大さを物語っています。ご冥福をお祈りします。



blueorb at 23:05|PermalinkComments(2)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月17日

クトゥルフ神話〜銀の鍵

クトゥルフ神話〜銀

★銀の鍵より


わたしたちふたりがよく訪れた、ある夢の都市で、まもなく出会えそうな気がするので、カーターに会ったらたずねてみたい。スカイ河の彼方のウルタールの噂によれば、顎鬚をたくわえ鰭を備えるノオリ族が奇妙な迷宮をつくりあげているという黄昏の海を見はるかす、なかがうつろなガラスでできた崖の頂に広がる小塔建ちならぶ伝説の邑、イレク=ヴァドの蛋白石の玉座に、新しい王が座して君臨しているといい、この噂をどう判断すればよいかを、わたしは心得ているつもりだ。まさしくわたしは胸をときめくほどに、あの大きな銀の鍵を目にするのをたのしみにしている。それというのも、銀の鍵の謎めいたアラベスク模様には、くるめくほどに非人間的な宇宙の、その大いなる目的と謎とが、ことごとく象徴されているかもしれないのだから。




blueorb at 23:03|PermalinkComments(4)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月16日

クトゥルフ神話〜HPLの命日に際して・・・

クトゥルフ神話〜HPLの命日に際して・・・

★先日3月15日はラヴクラフトの命日でした…

1937年3月15日・・・偉大なる作家HPLの命日…
今でも、拡大を続けるクトゥルフ神話とその状況…生前、このような状況を想像できたでしょうか?
没後、70年以上経過しても色あせない作品群を、毎日読み、触れ、感じております。
HPLの作品とクトゥルフ神話は今でも、楽しく、興味深く、奥深く…
HPLに感謝しています。



blueorb at 21:38|PermalinkComments(2)TrackBack(0)H・P・LOVECRAFT 

2008年03月10日

クトゥルフ神話〜闇に囁くものより

クトゥルフ神話〜闇に囁くものより

★1915年5月1日の午前1時ごろ、リー沼地からそびえるダーク山の西斜面の森にある、入口をふさがれた洞窟の近くで録音されたもの。


(何ともしれない音)
(教養のある人間の男の声)
…にとってさえ…は森の支配者にして、レンの民人の贈物なりせば…夜の泉より宇宙の深遠まで、宇宙の深遠より夜の泉まで、大いなるクトゥルー、ツァトゥグア、名づけられざるものを誉めたたえよや。彼らを誉めたたえ、森の黒山羊にはおびただしい供えを。いあ、シュブ=ニグラス、千の仔を孕みし森の山羊よ。

(人間の声を真似た唸るような声)
いあ、シュブ=ニグラス。千匹の仔を孕みし森の山羊よ。

(人間の声)
かくのごとくあいなりぬ。森の支配者は…七と九、縞瑪瑙の階をくだり…汝がわれらに教えたる驚(異)を孕みしもの、深遠のものなるアザトースに捧げものをなし…夜の翼に乗りて宇宙を超え、…を超え、もっとも幼き子なるユゴスが周縁の黒きエーテル内で孤独に旋回するところへと…

(唸るような声)
…人間のなかに立ちまざり、深淵のものの知るやもしれぬ、人間のやりかたを見いだすべし。強壮なる使者ナイアーラルトテップにすべてを語らねばならぬ。さすれば彼のものは身を隠す蠟の仮面とローブにて人間を装い、七つなる太陽の世界より到来して、嘲り…

(人間の声)
…(ナイアー)ラトテップ、大いなる使者、虚空をよぎりてユゴスに奇異なる喜びをもたらすもの、百万の恵まれたるものどもの父にして…を忍び歩くもの…

(録音がおわって言葉がとぎれる)





blueorb at 23:17|PermalinkComments(3)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ(魔道書・アイテム・呪文・詠唱) 

2008年03月06日

クトゥルフ神話〜メタルヘッド Frontier 2150/d20 エディションの発売

クトゥルフ神話〜メタルヘッド Frontier 2150/d20 エディションの発売

★気になるTRPGが発売になります。今月の雑誌ゲームジャパン(HJ)に記事がりました。そのTRPGがメタルヘッドです。以下公式サイトより。

フロンティア 2150
―― 時は2150年。
 人類は地球規模のカタストロフを乗り越え、巨大企業が建設した理想計画都市《メガ=シティー》に身を寄せ、その中でさらに複雑な社会を営んでいる。
 シティーの周囲は荒野。そこには、狂ってしまった自然環境と危険な変異体生物やバンデッド、アウトローが巣食う。生半可な者が通過することさえ拒む大地。

 一方の《メガ=シティー》においては、蜘蛛の巣のごとく張り巡らされたコンピュータ・ネットワークと、サイバー・テクノロジーの急速な進歩により、人と人造の境界は近づき、思考とプログラムはまじりあい、ヒトもメカもネットで連結され機能を増していく。
 情報に溺れて生かされる多くの人々と少数の管理者。極限に達した情報化社会、郊外に広がる不毛の荒野を背景にした世界で、孤高のポリシーを貫くハンター達が縦横無尽に活躍する。サイバー化による身体強化、銃器、ハッキング、戦闘車両や機動メカ"コンバットシェル"を駆使し、荒野を、摩天楼を駆け抜けろ。

サイバーアクションRPGの最高峰と世界的スタンダードRPGが融合
 「メタルヘッド Frontier 2150/d20 エディション」は、1990年にHobbyJAPANより発売され大人気を博した「メタルヘッド Frontier 2150」を、世界でも知られた『ダンジョンズ&ドラゴンズ』互換の「d20システム」で遊べる形でリニューアル。製作・執筆は原作者・高平鳴海。舞台は2150年でありながら、現在のRPGシーンを反映した最新版「2150」をお届けします。
 さらに「d20システム」互換であることから、ゲームマスターの工夫により、ボリュームを誇るD&Dのサプリメント群から敵のデータを使用したり、別の「d20」の世界をネットワークの一つの仮想世界として利用したり、といったことも可能で、この"Frontier"は広大なものとなるでしょう。

メタルヘッド/d20
著:高平鳴海
カバーイラスト:米村孝一郎
発売:3月14日発売予定
予価:3,675円(3,500円+税)
ISBN:978-489-425677-4

◆STAFF◆
著:高平鳴海/関根博寿/南郷隆/西上柾/銅大
 カバーイラスト:米村孝一郎
 オープニング・コミック:井上純弌
 本文イラスト:市村有/井上純弌/狭霧光明/野田兄弟/長谷信司/星見野熊/村田護郎/悠理愛/米村孝一郎
 SPECIAL THANKS:Team AGARUTA
 原作:高平鳴海

公式サイト
http://www.hobbyjapan.co.jp/metalhead/main.html


D20だし気になるのです。でも最近未来系TRPGがいい感じです。シャドウラン・クトゥルフテック…メタルヘッド…


blueorb at 22:51|PermalinkComments(0)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月03日

クトゥルフ神話〜クールなイラスト、クトゥルフなイラスト(BYノッツオ様)

721a1228.jpgクトゥルフ神話〜クールなイラスト、クトゥルフなイラスト(BYノッツオ様)

★クトゥルフ神話の書籍やゲームが出ると必ず、イラストについて表紙絵など神話ファンの一部で話題になりますが、最近刊行されたクトゥルフ神話作品の書籍の表紙イラスト…クールでかっこいいものが増えたと思いませんか?特に

マレウス・モンストロルム
シナリオ集「七つの怪談」
クトゥルー神話の謎と真実

これらは全てノッツオ様が描いたものです。特に自分はマレウス・モンストロルムはオリジナルのものよりも日本版の方が好きです。人の作品に点数を付けるのは大変失礼だと思いますがあえて言わせて頂きますと、マレウス・モンストロルムは90点OVER…自分的にはほぼ完璧です。勿論「七つの怪談」もそのぐらいグレード高いのです。それで、そのノッツオ様のサイトには、クトゥルフ神話のクリーチャーや神格のクールなイラストがあり、そちらも好きです。自分が何かクリエイティブな仕事に付き、クトゥルフ関連のものを出す機会に恵まれたなら、間違いなくお願いしたいと思うほどです。それで、ノッツオ様のサイトのアドレスが以下

Nottsuo'sTHING
http://homepage3.nifty.com/nottsuo/index.htm

イラストはノッツオ様作のイスの偉大なる種族です。

blueorb at 22:45|PermalinkComments(2)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ 

2008年03月02日

クトゥルフ神話〜Nyarlathotep

クトゥルフ神話〜Nyarlathotep

★Nyarlathotep


Nyarlathotep... the crawling chaos... I am the last... I will tell the audient void...

I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a demoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.

And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw him, yet could not say why. He said he had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and that he had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of civilisation came Nyarlathotep, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. He spoke much of the sciences of electricity and psychology and gave exhibitions of power which sent his spectators away speechless, yet which swelled his fame to exceeding magnitude. Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished, for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. Never before had the screams of nightmare been such a public problem; now the wise men almost wished they could forbid sleep in the small hours, that the shrieks of cities might less horribly disturb the pale, pitying moon as it glimmered on green waters gliding under bridges, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.

I remember when Nyarlathotep came to my city the great, the old, the terrible city of unnumbered crimes. My friend had told me of him, and of the impelling fascination and allurement of his revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. My friend said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered imaginings; and what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things none but Nyarlathotep dared prophesy, and in the sputter of his sparks there was taken from men that which had never been taken before yet which showed only in the eyes. And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Nyarlathotep looked on sights which others saw not.

It was in the hot autumn that I went through the night with the restless crowds to see Nyarlathotep; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw hooded forms amidst ruins, and yellow evil faces peering from behind fallen monuments. And I saw the world battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning, struggling around the dimming, cooling sun. Then the sparks played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about imposture and static electricity, Nyarlathotep drove us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted midnight streets. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We swore to one another that the city was exactly the same, and still alive; and when the electric lights began to fade we cursed the company over and over again, and laughed at the queer faces we made.

I believe we felt something coming down from the greenish moon, for when we began to depend on its light we drifted into curious involuntary marching formations and seemed to know our destinations though we dared not think of them. Once we looked at the pavement and found the blocks loose and displaced by grass, with scarce a line of rusted metal to show where the tramways had run. And again we saw a tram-car, lone, windowless, dilapidated, and almost on its side. When we gazed around the horizon, we could not find the third tower by the river, and noticed that the silhouette of the second tower was ragged at the top. Then we split up into narrow columns, each of which seemed drawn in a different direction. One disappeared in a narrow alley to the left, leaving only the echo of a shocking moan. Another filed down a weed-choked subway entrance, howling with a laughter that was mad. My own column was sucked toward the open country, and presently I felt a chill which was not of the hot autumn; for as we stalked out on the dark moor, we beheld around us the hellish moon-glitter of evil snows. Trackless, inexplicable snows, swept asunder in one direction only, where lay a gulf all the blacker for its glittering walls. The column seemed very thin indeed as it plodded dreamily into the gulf. I lingered behind, for the black rift in the green-litten snow was frightful, and I thought I had heard the reverberations of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; but my power to linger was slight. As if beckoned by those who had gone before, I half-floated between the titanic snowdrifts, quivering and afraid, into the sightless vortex of the unimaginable.

Screamingly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the gods that were can tell. A sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctifled temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep.


Nyarlathotep
by
H. P. Lovecraft


blueorb at 23:13|PermalinkComments(0)TrackBack(0)クトゥルフ(作品紹介) 

2008年03月01日

クトゥルフ神話〜シャドウランリプレイ(ビギナーズ・バッドラック)ついて

eec5feac.jpgクトゥルフ神話〜シャドウランリプレイ(ビギナーズ・バッドラック)ついて

★シャドウランについては、皆さんご存知のことと思いますが、そうでない方の為に若干記述します。(公式サイトより)


舞台は2070年。状況はまだまだ止まらない。
 世紀の変わり目から、世界は想像も及ばない方向に変わった。宇宙の神秘的なエネルギーは確実に力を高め、集中させていき、ついには、魔法をこの世界に戻してしまった。いわゆる〈覚醒〉である。エルフとドワーフ、オークとトロールは、ヒトの姿を脱ぎ捨て、彼らの本来の姿を取り戻した。野生動物たちさえもその姿を神話と伝説の獣に変えていった。さまざまな魔術が現実のものとなり、それを実践する魔法使いたちは新しい世界で居場所を切り拓いている。
 世界を覆う巨大なコンピュータ・ネットワークは不可解なコンピュータ・ウイルスによる攻撃で崩壊した。ドラゴンが空に舞った。疫病と飢饉が世界の人口を激減させた。新しく覚醒した種族と、残された人類との衝突がそこら中で起こった。すべての権力中枢は崩落し、そして、世界は奈落の底に向かってまっさかさまに落ちていった。

 しかし、人類とその仲間たちは、しぶとい生き物である。荒廃と混沌から、脆いながらも新しい社会秩序が、ゆっくりと誕生した。
 超巨大企業(メガコーポ)群が新世界の覇権を握り、自分たちを世界の掟とした。地球上のあらゆる場所で、企業の言葉が標準になった。新円(ニュー・イェン)は世界的な基準通 貨になり、世界最高の裁判所はいまや、トップ10の巨大企業によって成り立つ企業法廷である。
 メガコーポたちは命がけのゲームを続け、そして、少しでも優位に立つために、影の手駒を雇うようになった。

 テクノロジーもまた、人々を変えた。もはや肉体という制限に満足する必要はない。多くの人々はサイバーウェアによって自身を人工的に強化する道を選んだ。より強く、より速く、より賢く。
 より自然な強化を好む者もいた。彼らは医療用培養槽で育てられた強化臓器に目をつけた。バイオウェアだ。
 また、ある者は、パワフルな装着型コンピュータ機器に道を見出し、光学チップや強化タイヤが自分自身の身体の一部であるかのように、コンピュータ・ネットワークや車両を操作するようになった。

 万事が金という2070年の厳しい現実の中では、都市が大きいほど、影は深い。巨大な企業構造の隙間に、あらゆる影の犯罪が住みついている。メガコーポが危ない橋を渡る必要があり、かつ手を汚したくないとき、彼らはそれを任せられる唯一の人種を頼る。

 シャドウランナー、それはいつでも関与を否定できる存在。政府や会社のデータベースのうちで最もヤバいものの中にさえ、会社とシャドウランナーの関係は登録されていないが、彼らのサービスへの需要は高い。
 ハッカーは巨大な会社のデータベース中に音もなく忍び込み、本当に価値ある唯一のもの――情報だ――を盗み出す。ストリート・サムライは、戦闘技術と強化された反射神経による究極の捕食者として雇われる執行人だ。
 リガーは、さまざまな目的に特化した車両(ヴィークル)や無人機(ドローン)を操ることができる。
 現在の地球を包む不思議なエネルギーを操作する、稀有な才能を持つ魔法使いたちは、競争相手をスパイし、敵に対して呪文を浴びせかけ、魔法的な破壊活動を行なうなど、雇い主が夢想するありとあらゆる目的に使えるので、引く手あまたなのだ。
 こうした者たちは皆、生き延びるために腕前を売り、危険すぎて誰も引き受けようとしない仕事を請け負う。その多くは違法であり、いかがわしい仕事ばかりだ。

 友よ、暗黒の未来にようこそ。こいつは、とんでもない旅になりそうだ。


それで、PCゲームも販売され家電量販店のゲームソフトを見たことのある方もいると思います。それで、TRPG系なのですが、国内でのラインナップ状況が以下です。

.轡礇疋Ε薀 4th Edition(基本ルールブック)5,000円

▲轡礇疋Ε薀 4th Edition 上級ルールブック(ストリート・マジック)
3,675円

シャドウラン 4th Edition リプレイ(ストリートの天使たち)
1,260円

ぅ轡礇疋Ε薀 4th Edition リプレイ(ビギナーズ・バッドラック)
3月下旬発売予定 950円+税 新紀元社

このように順調に拡張しています。いい感じです。そして公式サイトが以下

シャドウラン公式
http://www.arclight.co.jp/r_r/shadowrun/top.html

朱鷺田先生のBLOG
http://suzakugames.cocolog-nifty.com/



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