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[Doctor Ignatius Stone:]

It was like some dark, dark dream. We had not
heeded

the warnings of the ancients, and now we would
pay the price... here, within

the catacombs of Ur.

Lost within the lightless catacombs of Ur...
Entombed within the ziggurats!

[The Keeper of the Ancient Lore of Ur:]

Trapped forever in the catacombs of Ur...

your screams are heard in Babylon!

[Doctor Ignatius Stone:]

Warnings etched into the cuneiform tablets of
Ur...

Entombed within the ziggurats!

[The Keeper of the Ancient Lore of Ur:]

Behold the great Cthonic deities of Ur...

Your screams are heard in Babylon!

[Doctor Ignatius Stone:]

Here, beneath the eternally shifting sands, I
sought

enlightenment... but found only damnation!

[The Chief Cultist of Ur:]

You have defiled the sanctity of this sacred
place!

[The Keeper of the Ancient Lore of Ur:]

Ancient before the Fifth Cataclysm, here

between the two rivers in Ur the Dreamer waits!
And when the seal of the

seventh city is broken, then shall the dreamer in
the catacombs of Ur awaken!

Forsaken (when His darksome splendorous glory
eclipses it) burns the sun,

Enthrone (the eternally) benighted one, Usurper
of the skies.

Named in (that black, shunned tome of ) forbidden
lore,

Destined to rule (this telluric sphere and the
myriad stars beyond) once more,

The Dreamer shall arise!

Now, let the Gate yawn wide and the horrors of
the Abyss engulf the earth, for

the Dreamer in the catacombs is risen!

How many of my colleague's rants were merely the
result of his psychosis and

how many were actually born of fact, I cannot
discern... nor in truth do I

wish to.

[20 October, 1893]

I have long felt the celebrated map of Admiral
Piri Reis, which quite

astoundingly depicts the continent of Antarctica
in a state wholly free

of the ice which has bound it ceaselessly since
time immemorial, to be of

far wider and more resonant implications to
humanity than the proud echelons

of the scientific community will ever dare admit.
I believe that beneath the

ice-veiled surface of that southernmost continent
lie the remnants of time-lost

civilisations which were ancient even before
fabled Atlantis sank beneath

the waves. Indeed, further translation of the
sigils engraved into the

antediluvian artefact has imbued my oft derided
theory with an unmistakable

aura of veracity. Piecing together the
fragmentary records evidenced in this

incredible relic, whilst simultaneously cross
referencing the resultant lore

with information gleaned from other sources on
the same theoretical subject,

I have been able to extrapolate a meaning from
the arcane carvings which

transcends all but my most fevered imaginings.
What mighty cyclopean structures

once towered skyward where now only the desolate
wind-whipped ice-wastes

endure? What splendid peoples once throve where
now only the hardiest and most

resistant forms of life subsist? This ancient and
wondrous testament is truly

an elucidatory blessing to such idealistic
questors as I, who are forever

In Search Of The Lost Cities Of Antarctica: