After a play through of Elder Sign I decided to elevate the game's thematic immersion by writing a brief narrative of the last few turns.
'Foraging amongst the tat of the souvenir shop I suddenly felt myself drawn by some eldritch force, beckoning me to the rear of the building. Nestled between the vast shelves, emitting an impossible glow, the elder sign called to me.
I disclosed this vital revelation to Darrell Simmons, a local photographer whose assistance has proved crucial in maintaining my sanity through this longest of nights.
Tending to a ghastly leg wound, yet hardly distracted, Darrell mentioned hearing a smashing sound coming from one of the museum’s most valued exhibition rooms.
I knew Darrell could not accompany me in his current condition and thus set off into the shadows of the museum, which strangely felt more inviting than the creeping pools of moonlight gathered below the windows.
A glint appeared in the corner of my eye. Turning I saw a trail of glass shards leading to an empty display case emblazoned with a plaque: ‘Do Not Touch the Exhibits.’
Retracing my steps and avoiding the shattered glass I soon came to gaze upon the embodiment of my morbid suspicions.
A body lay lifeless, frozen in fear. I examined the clenched fists and oddly blue tinged skin of the hands and released the thief’s deathly grasp on the prized artefact.
There, seemingly burned into the pallid blue flesh of the palm, was our salvation. A linked pair of elder signs.
At once a feeling of relief came over me. Darkness receded and the hall's unearthly glow retreated.
Dawn was approaching. Something I feared never seeing again after my earlier encounters with the crazed cultists. I still hear their infectious, maddening chants:
“Awaken. Hastur. The King in Yellow."'