Leviathan, dark ages: Necronomicon

   The nameless mountain, one set in the earth’s poles to the North, and one set in the earth’s pole to the South; Once well known in a older age, once visited and its paths well wondered and trodden… There is an abandoned village there, old and fallen to the savage ruins of time. The village and people all gone, never known why or how, the lone temple still standing… When one’s foolish to venture forth close enough to see with their own eyes, one gets the eerie feeling that the lone temple is not standing deserted like the rest of the torn down and dilapidated village, but it is waiting, waiting for what, once can never know, the only thing known about the deserted village found within the nameless mountains, is a riddle, unsolved, “in the darkest depth of time and wait, in arid places, they carry news that must get through, a tail that cant be told, for Elders hold no quarter both in-betweens nor here, what once was, was once what will be and forever be again, in the in-between, in the once and future” cryptic and darkly foreboding indeed…  
 
  For 13 unholy days I walk, beset at first by nonstop sounds of insects and howling wind, which in honesty sound closer to voices, no not human, but of a much deeper sound, dark and foreboding, almost, well, every part of me believes its demonic in nature. Next, what seems like endless days and nights of darkness neath the thick undergrowth of trees and shade, I travail,  searching for a sign to the catacombs said to be underneath the long lost secret village… Cursing almost nonstop the situation I find myself seeking the entrance to that most certainly unholy of holy places. It is said that a shadow path, and a place of wisdom and knowledge make its home there, lost and forever kept upon the place of the bones. It is known to my order that there is a certain sight that only the dead in eyes can see, places in time and spaces, both ahead of us and behind where we were. Though the final acts of our life remain our own, the spirits seem to know where that time and place is, the final decision of what happens when there still remain our own…
 
  I believe that I am goin in circle now, and there,  At a place that I swear having already passed through, underneath this web of a pitch black perfect starless moonless night, I see what looks like a temple, yet it emits a light of its own, not of star or skylight, but a force of its own radiance and light. For another 13 days I walk towards it, making what seems like no ground gained, when suddenly looking up, I am there, unexplained, forever was it at the edge of the horizon day after day, when suddenly, I am here. There is nothing about this that I like, and yet, it seems that I have been here before, walked these same forest floors, heard the same howling sounds of torment, and lived and walked among the thick forbidding forested thorns and trees.
 
  There, bent kneeling in the luminous air, mumbling, praying out loud is the vision of a Greater tormentor, a high priest of the temple of the nameless mountains. The tormentors, both greater and lesser are creatures not of this place nor time, a being from beyond, both evil and proud, hideous in appearance and vial in nature, killers and violators all, a creature of the darkness that surrounds us… There is no description that can be made from ink and parchment, of what now is before me, other than the creatures very being is warped by a natural law not of this dimension, but a different dimension, a place where the natural laws of physics and nature both pervert and corrupt space time and spirit. This creatures body, if you want to call it that, twists and bulges out in ways not natural to our own worlds gravity and laws of physics, but is twisted, deformed and colored in colors not though possible, let alone seen by my eyes, or any other eyes for that matter, unless you’re a being who passes and walks in the in-between also, like I have been in previous life’s, as well as some of the others. The Tormentor is no doubt the reason I struggled getting here, it had sent it spirit against me, its voice carried on the winds, sun and moon worked against me, putting me on the turning away to not rise above it… it has that strength of power to command the natural ways of things, it is bound to the law of things from whence it came. Looking up from its bowed position, it acknowledges me. “Come forward” it bellows out, in a voice not possible to recreate with human organs, let me look upon you. To go beyond, you must first go down below to receive the blessing of the tome and bear its mark, before you can go forth to the peak of summoning here within the mountains, your worth will be found, weighed and judged as you wonder neath the ancient catacombs of his temple.

  Venturing forth therein, I found a tome of considerable weight, bound in a leathery type of stitching, almost,,, skin like in nature, human I am sure, with what appears to be ancient arcane symbols adorning the tome, Al Azif etched upon the alter of which the massive tome sits, though one gets a feeling it waits more than lays…

And so on page three hundred and thirty three, the tome of Al Azif tells:

  Those born unto the star of Jupiter, bound by three and thirteen, prepare thy Elder sign upon an amulet of iron or silver, near to yourself, blood of the sacrifice, place it upon thy guarded threshold, engrave it upon the weapon, it is lawful to wear it upon an ring of iron or silver. Being versed already in ancient and dark arts, necromancy and shadow arts, I took and did make the sign of the Elder Gods, and engraved it upon ring, and fashioned it upon my weapon. Now bearing the sign of the Elder God, I made my way out of that most cursed of all earthen places, out of the catacombs under the Temple in the Nameless mountains, and there, just as foretold by the tome, is the threshold, with the sign of the Elder God, and the bell of summoning…  

  Prepare thee the Space Meade prepared and consumed, from seeds of the morning glory plant, two days mixed, strained and fermented, pray and meditate without ceasing,  Remove the bell of summoning from black cloth, I prepared it, and ring the bell , Raising left hand and making the sign of the Elder Gods, I speak first: Elder one, that which does not die but eternally lies dreaming, death, laying, slumbering eternal, and even though strangely death may die, you stay dreaming through death and through times and a time…Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn, Sleeping dust waiting dreaming, that which is not dead can eternal lie, and within strange aeons even death may die, Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn , Inanna INANNA INANNA,  until the one, the third of the Thirteen gates opens,  Inanna… I am, come forward and through…

  Remembering there are thirteen gates, the instructs: Prepare thy bell of summoning; keep it in sack of black, until its time to be used on another,
  And so, I kept it in black sack cloth, until it is needed on another…

    Something, unnatural about the air and the sky cause the flame of the torch to dim, unnaturally yet again, very hideous odors permeate now and again from unknown origin,
The gate shadow path opens, the Third Gate, I step through, the hour is here, like gold through the fires my worthiness will be weighed, judged, and liken onto a new born scorpion under foot, if am left wanting,