Like last blog entry concerning this subject, I'll be limiting myself once more to supplements, adventure collections, and campaigns. That means no MULA covers, and additionally, no non-Chaosium covers. If a supplement started life as a MULA monograph, however, it's still fair game. Unlike the last one, however, there's 10 covers this time, because I really had a hard time picking my favorites. And no, sadly I didn't have room for the Dreamlands First Edition cover here - I already told you about how cool that cover was in the Worst-Of list. Consider it an honorable mention. The other caveat is, I cannot judge the cover based on the story within. No matter how good or bad the actual stuff between the covers is, I'll be judging the artwork on its own merits - does it fit the title well? Is it thematically appropriate? Is it eye-catching? Is it something unique that stands out? Is it just really fucking cool-looking? And, most importantly, is it creepy? If it's not any of those things, it's not a good cover IMHO. Now, let's get this horror-show on the road!
10. Blood Brothers (Chaosium, 1990): This cover makes me grin. Oh yes, pulpy non-Mythos horror goodness, come to momma, I need this in my life. With a title like "Blood Brothers" in bright crimson red font, how could you possibly go wrong with a supplement dedicated to pure B-Movie style horror schlock, in the Call of Cthulhu system? Plus, let's all just appreciate the sheer coolness of a Star Spawn of Cthulhu in Leatherface's smock with a big ol' fuck-off chainsaw for a weapon, because if you can't appreciate that, I'm pretty sure you're a Mi-go wearing a human suit and not an actual human. Get outta here, Mi-go. Nobody wants to deal with your shit.
I mean, just look at this glorious B-movie nonsense. It's just such fucking overkill. Why does a Star Spawn need a chainsaw, and where would you even get one that big? What sort of utter lunatic puts a Star Spawn in a butcher's smock and gives them a chainsaw to begin with? How much weed were the Art Ghouls smoking when they designed this one? It's like something Nyarlathotep would come up with if he got really, really drunk and decided to create a new life form for shits and giggles. It's straight from a Tarantino film on a fuckload of acid. It's just so gloriously cheesy and stupid that it swings around again to being awesome, in the same way that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Killer Klowns From Outer Space sound amazingly dumb at first blush but are actually really goddamned awesome.
My only reasoning that this one is at #10, is due to the lack of details. The art itself is detailed and fine, but the background is lackluster. It's a boring cream-colored cover with some crimson text and an awesome Star Spawn with a chainsaw on the front. But really, do you actually need anything as a background when you have a chainsaw-toting Star Spawn coming for your ass? Either way, it's clear from this cover what you're getting - non-Mythos B-movie style schlocky horror Fright Night fun. This cover is fun. I like covers that are fun.
Dramatic irony, building suspense, and the awful tension of knowing something will happen but not when it will happen are the great marks of good Keeping, and what we're all here for when we play CoC. Hell, can't you just imagine the story here? An Investigator smells something fetid and rotten, something coming from the basement. He opens the door, and the stench hits him like a wall - he has to stay in the fresh air at the top of the stairs to steel himself, and yet... he sees nothing. Nothing causing the reeking odor of death lies at the bottom of those steps, not in the wan light of day cast into that shadowy place below. Soon, he must embark downwards and discover what is there for himself. And yet, horror of horrors, we the audience know what's there. Not some monster, not a nameless horror, but piles upon piles of gutted, carefully concealed bodies, and perhaps worse yet, a vague and unsettling hint at what might have created those bloody remains...
That, dear reader, is the power of suspense, the power of dramatic irony, the power of the unknown and lure of the void. It's what CoC is made of, and this cover shows that perfectly. This is how you do gruesome, glistening gore right, and really cements a fear of the unknown, because it can always be oh so very much worse than you think in-game. Pleasant nightmares...
What's especially horrifying are the stories of people not found for decades, left to rot and not discovered until they're mummified because they live alone. There have been people who seriously were not discovered as dead for up to 60 years or more, in their own homes. A few years ago in my own hometown, we discovered a man's car in a false lake near a funeral home; his corpse had been submerged since the 70's and he was little more than soaked bones. Now imagine being an Investigator and stumbling across not just a putrid and long-forgotten corpse, not just the corpse of someone you know, but the corpse of someone who you just saw yesterday tied down to a chair with clear evidence of Mythos activity to it.
That's what this gruesome cover shows - a nightmare made even more nightmarish. I just have so many questions. What happened to this guy? Who tied his arm to the chair? Who is he and what killed him? How is he this putrefied in a modern-looking (for the 1920's) library-den, and why is the fireplace still lit if he's been sitting there this long? Did something burrow in through that hole in his torso... or burst out of it? And what the hell is wrong with his arm, are those tentacles or just shreds of rotting flesh? Why are they growing and melding into the body like that? The Art Ghouls certainly aren't telling. Something truly, truly horrific happened to this poor man, and the Investigator in me really, really wants to know what, perhaps to my ultimate detriment...
One night, you're awoken by a sound like a knocking at the door. Nothing unusual, you're used to urgent calls for help at half past midnight; they've certainly happened before, and it's about that time for you to be dragged into yet another Investigation. Isn't it always? You stumble groggily to the door, and the knocking becomes more insistent. Someone must really need your help, but even so, a twinge of vague fear hits you, then dissipates. You're safe here. You're safe. Don't be paranoid.
Then, you open the door, and a flash of light blinds you momentarily. You blink wearily as someone moves around outside. Someone large. Someone unnaturally large. And then, your eyes adjust, and the sight you see makes you wish you had stayed in bed. The sheer pale and glistening bulk of the thing is like a freight train bearing down on you. It approximates a man, but is not a man; something you too late realize is magical energy gleams in its claws, growing brighter by the second. And then, the thing finally turns to you, recognizing you... and it grins. The horror has finally found you, and it's here, at your door, where you thought you were safe...
Hell of an image, right? Too bad this campaign is a bit lackluster. But for what the cover is, it's memorable as fuck. How vulnerable do you feel just looking at this image? I know for certain it makes me shudder. How many nightmares like this have you had before? I know you must have, everyone has nightmares like this one, right? ... Right?
Please tell me this is normal...
But come on. Look at this cover, I mean really look at it. Isn't this such an improvement over the Lisa Frank abomination? Doesn't this look so badass? You have three angry, screaming Nyarlathotep faces in a cloud of light and energy. You have Art Deco Cthulhus on either side of the altar. You have steps and big fuck-off spikes leading to the altar. You have a terrified priest who just really, really fucked up trying to shield themselves in vain from the wrath of the dark god. It takes place in a cavern, which is where all three of the biggest plot points for the campaign occur (Mountain of the Black Wind's temple-cavern, Grey Dragon Island's caldera-cavern, Australia's hidden Great Race City cavern). And the coloring is attractive, bright, and yet way more subtle and gentle.
All of it sums up to catch your attention and your eye. You want to see this scene in a game, you know you do, and this cover promises you will see it in this campaign. And it's not a lie, either! This cover promises a hell of a pulpy, dangerous romp of a campaign, very fitting for what MoN is. And it's such a good cover, they haven't changed it in 22 years. This campaign is nearly three decades old, and they've changed the cover art itself precisely once in order to better adapt the scenario's material to said cover. The proof's right in front of you, that's the 4th Edition and most current cover you're looking at.
Rumor has it they might just update MoN to 7e, and if they do they had better not change this cover art. If they do change it, it better be to something so goddamned epic, it takes 1d10/1d100 SAN just to look at, because it actually is Nyarlathotep in campaign form. Listen, do you hear that? The Chaos of a Thousand Masks is speaking. He is pleased with this artwork. Very pleased indeed.
Let's break this one down. We have a winged, faceless, dragon-like thing that is thrice as big as earth, hovering in space, and the earth itself is about to be consumed by a massive gateway to Azathoth only knows where. What? How did this happen, why is it happening, what in all space is going on here, how fucked is earth right now?
You want existential, cosmic horror in image form? You've got it. Pure hell from the stars above, something humans cannot ever hope to protect themselves from. That thing could easily rip earth in half and consume the leftover crumbs. "Herald of the End of Time" indeed! This cover is so aggressively metal, that every single metal band that ever was or ever will be just jizzed their pants. This cover is so batshit insane, Arkham Asylum told it to calm down. This cover is so cool, you could chill a side of beef in it. This cover is what Cthulhu has nightmares about.
Think about that the next time you wonder about exactly how horrifying Cthulhu's dreams are.
What if there were a meme that, rather than strengthening that worldview, slowly distorted and destroyed it? What if it were malevolent information - a symbol, a play, a theoretical archetype all humans instantly recognized on some strange level - and it stuck with you? Information so vile, so warped, you never saw the same way again, information that slowly drove you to insanity and despair for how ever-present it was? How horrifying and topical is the concept of a dangerous meme? Horrific in the extreme if you ask me. Or, you could just ask these tortured, tormented souls... if you can get them to stop screaming about Yellow Signs and Tattered Kings.
This image is just so, so perfect for a scenario collection exploring the xanthous side of the Extended Mythos. It's bright and eye-catching, and the more you look at it the more horrible details resolve. The fact this is apparently on a stage. The screaming faces in the King's tatters. The people clawing their eyes out and screaming in despair. The triumphant pose Hastur has here. The weeping person in the front trying in vain to forget what they saw as the horror begins to overtake and corrupt them, too. The little tentacles at the bottom of his Mask-That-Is-No-Mask. Utterly captivating, spellbinding, and freakish stuff, here, and 100% perfect for a cover concerning tales of the Jaundiced Royal One. This is one sexy, sexy cover for a CoC supplement based on how cool it looks alone. Get inside me, sexy cover. I want your babies.
All joking aside, this cover is truly badass and highly display-worthy; I could never bear to hide it on a shelf. It demands to be seen. How can you look at this cover and not want this supplement, even if you aren't a big fan of the Yellow Mythos and its twisted skein? How can you not have your eye caught by the bright yellow here? It entices you to explore its depths, plumb the secrets of Hali, explore the very pallid fabric of Carcosa and its ruler. Oh yes, dear Keeper, hear the music of the Court in Yellow, and let yourself fall under Hastur's dark sway. You have found the Sign and its secrets, and now you must explore them. Kneel before your King.
Damn you all to hell, Art Ghouls. I did not need this image ingrained in my nightmares, and neither did anyone else. But that's of course what makes it so deliciously horrible, and such a memorably good cover. I can actually feel my sanity slipping away just looking at it, that is how grotesque this cover is. It's just so gross and painful-looking, and the worst part is, there is a distinct and terrible part of me that really, really wants to touch it. I imagine it's gooey, juicy, almost like slime, but I have a feeling if I put my hands on this man, I will instantly regret it. It's probably acidic or some sort of weird eldritch skin parasite that is highly contagious. Just look at what it did to this guy!
Speaking of, just what the hell did it do to this guy? Is he trapped in eldritch jello? Being unmade? Is he a ghost? Is his soul being stripped to nothing? Why in the name of all that is Lovecraftian do I want to touch it?
My biggest question is, just what is this Deep One (and it's so obviously a Deep One) doing that requires him to wear gloves? Why does a Deep One need gloves at all? The most uncomfortable possible reason that I can think of for why he's got them on involves those gloved paws going somewhere you really do not want them going (use your imagination here, you pervert), a thought made all the worse by the fact that one of the claws is punching through the glove. This Deep One isn't concerned about his safety, or yours. He's mocking you, taunting you by suiting up like a human doctor would, playing with your expectations in a touch of macabre irony and without a shred of remorse.
Good lord, this is one of the most macabre and darkly humorous covers I have ever seen, because it leaves your imagination to fill in the awful, awful blanks. Kinda like any good horror story should. In fact, I feel a little uncomfortable just looking at it. Now open wide and sit still, dearie. This won't hurt a bit...
It doesn't show the monster.
Oh sure, you can see the shadows of the monster. You can even see the Investigator's response to knowing the monster's coming. You see all that in loving detail, too, from the beads of sweat on his face to the cracks in the brick walls. But unlike every other cover here, and unlike most other covers by Chaosium and others, you do not see anything but the barest hint that the monster is there, it's coming for you, and if you know what's good for you you'll run before it catches you. It invokes the very essence of that desperate escape from The Shadow Over Innsmouth, and neatly says that the game inside will be one of paranoia, survival horror, and frantic escape. For that reason, this cover, while not flashy, is my absolute favorite one that Chaosium has ever put on a campaign book, and it's no wonder they haven't changed it in the reprint.
Speaking of, this is due for an updated 7e reprint, Chaosium, the fans have been clamoring for it. It's rare enough now that people have taken to the MST3K route of circulating the PDF copy. It's not even available for purchase on your website, and that's a crying shame, because as I've stated before on this blog, Escape from Innsmouth is a great campaign and a semi-decent sourcebook for this little corner of Lovecraft Country. Do it, reprint it for the greater glory of Father Dagon, Chaosium. It's about damn time.