Astanael

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  • Leap of faith

    Yahaaaaa!
    Why bother with consequences?

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook.

  • Feral Bone Spirit, Ep.27 – The last Carrot

    As the moon rise above the mountains
    The last bit of carrot was eaten
    Rabbit is alert, he’s ready,
    Danger lurks in the dark, secretly.

    Pencil doodle on A6 Sketchbook – The adventures of a feral bone spirit

  • Feral Bone Spirit, Ep 26: Bliss

    Belly round and full
    Senses getting dull
    Rabbit ate too much
    No regrets, no fuss !

    Pencil doodle on A6 Sketchbook – The adventures of a feral bone spirit

  • Terror on the Orient-Express – The Torso of Sedefkar

    [WARNING : Contains spoilers of the Milano chapter of the “Terror on the Orient Express” Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign. Players are advised to skip this part]

    Teatro alla Scala, Milano, Italy, Januarry 10 1923

    Choura only dreamed of being there, on the stage of the Scala! Draped in a rich gown heavily decorated with numerous egyptian hieroglyphs, he was playing a high priest of Ptah. The costume was magnificent, only rivaled by those of the singers. It was a non-singing role but nonetheless a central one, keeping him close to the tenor playing Radamès. The Aida, Verdi masterpiece, was a bliss to listen onstage ! If only Cavolaro was there. He could swear that he heard her voice during the aria “ritorna vincitor” earlier. But enough ! All of his focus had to go in the role, he only knew the play from memory and didn’t actually had been directed. So far, it was a no fault, but the single mistake could cost a lot to him all all of the italian theater world!

    Cihat in comparison was only wearing a simple soldier attire, a fake spear and a loincloth. He was pulled backstage before he could get on stage, and only could look Choura from afar. On the other side of the stage, he could saw one of Facia’s men, probably searching the same thing that us. While properly dressed, the goon seemed out of place and bored out of his mind. From the corner of his eyes, Cihat saw something move, and went investigating. A strange black smoke were oozing in a corner of the backstage… cautiously approaching, he heard a deep yet soft voice emanating from the dark smoke.

    – Do you need help, my dear? I’m following you for a while, searching for the pieces of Sedefkar, and it seems you’ll need a hand to manage this Facia. He’s a brother of the Flesh, a dangerous man… Would you like me to get rid of him?  
    At the first rows of the room, Henry and Carl were searching for the participants of the Flavio Conti reception, screening the other spectators. Arturio Fascia was several rows behind them and they heard him sing during the aria with the voice of Cavolaro ! Henry was shocked, and looked again to the old woman next to Facia. The eyes, the proportions, the hair… It was beyond reasonable to deny the truth further: it was the lost Diva! After concerting with Carl, they stared to move and leave their seat. Henry has a plan, a hasty and risky one, but a plan.

    By the time they manage to reach the central row, they saw Facia standing up, and precipitately leave his seats, rudely hustling the other spectator. Did he saw them? Carl took a look to the stage and understand the reason behind the sudden move of Facia. No time left, they will have to intercept him backstage. Facia left because he saw what was on stage. Radames was about to get his armor, ready to battle the Ethiopian army. Choura was the one who had to get it to him but when the approached the mannequin revealed in the light he immediately knew they found the missing torso of Sedefkar !
    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign

  • Returning Home

    – Sarg’, permission to talk freely?
    – Yes, son
    – Why the f*** are we carrying a eyed rock to the gate?
    – Don’t ask, Don’t tell. The white coat said so, son. So take that… eyed thing, go up there, and put it in the blue thing.
    – Aye sarg’  

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook

  • Masks of Nyarlathotep – Relaxation

    Cairo, Egypt, March 19, 1925

    Mouhammad reluctantly left the room of the Continental Hotel, letting Betty preparing the ritual with the various ornaments he fetched for her. That was a strange set of tools she asked him and he did his best to find them all. Buckler, arrows, arc, an ankh, a tiny sarcophagus… All this esoteric stuff was making him nervous, not that he feared the occult, but returning to the place he once worked was risky. He didn’t exactly leave a notice or any explanation of why he left his receptionist job, and “finding the love of his life” was not among accepted motive.

    Betty told him not to look. She told him to return in a few hours. She said she will invoke the Spirit of Nets the Huntress to beg her for rest and protection.

    He couldn’t resist and swiftly turned back. Using his pass on the door, he cautiously went back in the hotel room. He heard the words of Betty speaking softly some kind of prayer, in an unknown language. As he tried to hide behind the plants, he was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to sleep. He briefly saw a feline shadows, heard a strange metallic noise and fell to the ground unconscious.
    And now he’s here. They all are here.

    There is no time here. No past. No future. Only an eternal present. The grass is everywhere, taller than them. A gentle and warm wind is blowing. They feel presences out of their sight around them, furtive noises in the bushes of predators, but no fear. They feel protected, relaxed. Mouhammad saw Betty, alongside her sister. Betty was pregnant, and all signs of worry has disappear from her face. She was expecting, radiant, a true goddess. He fell in love again and sit with her. Keeva was slowly stroking the dog. John was alert, but calm and peaceful.

    There was no pain, no worries, no anxiety, not even the slightest discomfort. For the first time since ages, they could relax themselves and forget for a while the tasks at hands, the horrible fraternity of the black Pharaoh and the impending return of Nitocris.

    This was bliss though Mouhammad. He could stay here for ever. Betty leaned on him and said:

    – I want to hunt small critters. To run after they little tails. I want to sleep in the sun and to be petted. This is a dream, I know that. Not The Dreamlands, ‘though… This is the dream of a cat.  

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from an ongoing run of the “Mask of Nyarlathotep” campaign for the Chaosium “Call of Cthulhu” RPG

  • Cthonian Egg

    From the belly of Shudde’Mell
    Comes eggs of stone and molten earth
    Hot as lava, burning like hell
    Beware of the cthonian birth !

    Ink brush doodle on A6 sketchbook

  • The Tombs of the Khalifs

    At Cairo they rest.
    Underneath a pest
    She will return
    He will unbirth

    Props from ongoing Masks of Nyarlathotep RPG campaign
    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook

  • Roaming by night

    It’s the end of my ink cartridge
    So I tried a simple juvenile crow, roaming the night, fluffy ball of feather.

    Caw! caww ! wac !

    Ink brush doodle on A6 sketchbook

  • Just a maid -24- Mr Crow

    Dear Mr.[smudged]

    My name is Phineas Jollybottom. You may not know me, and I apologize for writing you on such a short notice. I am a field zoologist from the Miskatonic university, and I frequently pass by your property while investigating the local fauna. It has come to my attention that one of the cordivae currently roaming in your vicinity exhibit the most peculiar behavior. I consulted with Dr. Armitage, a colleague of mine and we strongly suspect some extraneous influence on the cognitive ability of this specimen.

    With your permission, we would like to investigate further and try to capture it for further investigations, Could we arrange a visit from our team to set up some traps around your property? I guaranty you the least intrusive models we have in stock and the utmost discretion from our workers. I took the liberty to join this letter the details of my research on this strange specimen behavior to show you our good will and faith in your interest in science.

    Yours sincerly,

    Phineas Jollybotton, Pr.

    Pencil Doodle on A6 sketchbook for Just a Maid, a story about Martha, maid in a strange house