Ulysses

---

“It was a stupendous sight while the torches lasted, and Carter had never before seen so many cats. Black, grey, and white; yellow, tiger, and mixed; common, Persian, and Manx; Thibetan, Angora, and Egyptian; all were there in the fury of battle...”

---

CATS OF ULTHAR Cats play an important part in Dreamland affairs. Curiosity sometimes kills these cats, but in most occasions, they show enough sense to avoid dangerous situations. They tend to be better than dragons are when it comes to sensing the mystical energies of the Other Gods. Even creatures associated with the other Gods, such as the squat creatures of Leng, are repulsive to cats, who would just as soon avoid them entirely. However, cats are quick to aid their friends, whether it be other cats or even kind dragons. The cat clans will join forces to amass fierce army of fangs and claws, which spells doom even for much larger attackers. Generally speaking, cats are quiet, solitary creatures. One or two might linger in a kind dragon's lair, and a dreamer might even learn to speak their language. Even then, cats prefer to mind their own business and expect their hosts to do the same. They even keep secret where they often travel at night: the dark side of the moon. Suggested Readings: The Cats of Ulthar, The Other Gods, The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath

---

Trying to avoid getting rid of this intriguing book recommendation! Thanks for the Pearlie, ironically this man is gonna be a tad Lovecraft in ideals so I'm glad to have found such a dragon<3

---

A dragon, dreaming of greatness and hungering for power, but with only the ability to create beautiful, handcrafted pottery.

An artist hungry for something...redder to glaze his paws. Something other than clay to crack. But clumsy when outside the workroom.

He found out, through much trial and error, how to grace his work with life. To bless a statue or idol with movement and emotion.

He found a foundation for his new goal, a whining creature, pitiful in it's deformity. It's heads both screaming in abject agony as he drew it from it's slumber, from it's hidden nest, calling for a Mother.

Ugly. Needing improvement. Needing him.

Sneering, he drew it from it's nest, made a vessel, perfect and good. No ragged wings or dual parts. Empty socket eyes to see the soul within. The third eye replaced with a Soul gem from a Skydancer, to hold all the thoughts within the shell. A precious Pearl, to keep it's creator with it always. The wings soft and smooth to stroke, a quartet of horns frame the narrow face.

For you see, the artist was filled with fears alongside these vile ideals. Death, loneliness, ugliness, and more. And so, he created the phylactery before you.