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Object of the Nekrinimikon


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Object of the Nekrinimikon

Chapter 1

He hit the ground running, twisted his ankle, yelled in pain, lost balance and toppled sideways into a conveniently, almost strategically placed hedge. He was generally quite good at hitting the ground, it was just the running part that caused him the most trouble. It was still in the small hours of the morning and the only light that peirced the black landscape came from the full moon and the insignificant stars, twinkling at him from the heavens. He crouched down into the hedge and listened keenly to the slapping of thin soled shoes on the cobbles as the guards ran past him in search of a man he was quite sure they would not find. He chuckled to himself and ran off into the night, barely making a sound.

He stumbled into his small two room hut positioned (more sort of thrown down) on the outskirts of the famous... infamous city of Nekrin. Where the name Nekrin originated is unknown but widely speculated on. Most of the proffessional speculators agree that some bloke probably just thought it sounded good.

He sniggered and smirked quietly to himself. He then realised that he had no reason to hold back and let loose a loud burst of maniacal laughter. He continued for a good five minutes until a dog started barking and the neighbours shouted out onto the dimly lit street. He ceased abruptly and waited ten minutes until the commotion died down. He sat down on his small rotten bed and uncovered the musty smelling object that had so much potential and yet was so virtually unknown. He walked over to a lit gas lamp sitting on a small wooden table in the centre of the room. He picked it up and grinned at it in a way that would have made milk curdle. He threw the lamp down with all his strength, grabbed his newly aquired prize and ran out of the hut with his sleeve over his face. A few of the more economically challenged "folk" (you just couldn't bring yourself to call them people) basked in the heat of the blaze.

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Chapter 2

Two days later an unshaven wild looking man with a covered bundle under his arm and a predatorial glint in his eye burst into the Copper Coronet inn. It was probably unnecessary for him to "burst" in but it was evident to any spectator that this was a man who always burst in, simply entering didn't compute. While being an inn, the Copper Coronet was far from the seedy taverns that littered the darker parts of Nekrin; The Copper Coronet was for the more financially endowed gentlemen and ladies. He sauntered up to the bar. The bar tender, an extravagant mage with a long green beard and tufts if red hair looked disaprovingly down at the little unkempt commoner who was currently offending his nostrils.

 "Come with me," the mage said conspiratorially.

The two shuffled into a small store room behind the bar and the mage took a step backwards from the man in disgust.

 "Now," he said haughtily, "I don't wish to cause a scene so take this small pouch of gold and leave this establishment immediately. I'll not have filth polluting the air of my inn."

He held out a small bag of gold in front of the man who was still clutching his bundle intently. The man snatched the mage's hand away and pointed the small bundle at the mage. The mage retreated in alarm. He started chanting and forming complex patterns in the air with his hands. The now maniacally grinning dirty little man swept the sheet off the small object in his arms. A light click and a thud resounded around the small room. He swaggered over to the already cold body of the mage and now grinning all the more stooped down and picked up a bundle of keys and the pouch of gold. He sniggered and walked back into the main room. As he passed by, a tall muscular man greeted him in a friendly fashion.

 "Alright there, Cazlo?" He said cheerfully. A friend of the man added:

 "who's this then, Bill?"

 "He's just a bloke I see around all the time. He's harmless." Bill replied.

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Has this got anything to do with the Necrocomnicon (a thoroughly good read, by the way)?

I think you mean Necronomicon (I think it's really called the Al Alzhred [=the chatterings of night time animals]).

And I doubt you read the real thing Nema seeing as it originated in ancient Babylonia. :P

Oh and no it's just a play on words =).

EDIT: and if you do have the real one... gimme gimme ;) (whether in greek or otherwise).

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Good work, but holy crap in the second installment that 'he' business was confusing. Also, a funny thing is that you have all these strange names, Nekrinimikon, Cazlo, Nekrin...and then there's Bill. Do I smell a Bill spin-off?

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Well... actually the necronomicon was written by whats his name... love croft, but it is thought he ripped it off from the original which was the Al Azhred which I thought meant the chattering of night animals (ie demons) but maybe not...

EDIT: and no it doesnt send you insane, but the book is about summoning the Djinn, Ctulu (spelling?) and if you look at him then he sends you insane cos he's so ugly (supposedly like doc Nyar, where Nyarlathotep is a rough equivalent of Ctulu).

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Lovecraft a good writer but was full of crap Abdul Alhazred wrote the Necronomicon in Damascus in 730 A.D. There are no Arabic manuscript known to exist of the book. A Latin translation was made in 1487 by a priest named Olaus Wormius. Parts of the Necronomicon were translated into Hebrew maybe around 1664 and circulated in manuscript form by a mystical apologist for the pseudo-messiah Sabbatai Tzevi. This version was titled the Sepher ha-Sha'are ha-Daath, or the Book of the Gates of Knowledge.

Actually the name Necronomicon was made up by H.P. Lovecraft himself. Here is some information that might help to better understand the subject.

Most interpret the title The Necronomicon as "The Book of Dead Names". This, however, is certainly incorrect. The derivation of the first root from (nekros, dead, corpse) is definitely right, but the second root cannot derive from (onoma, name, title, noun) as the combining form of that word is onomat-, as in onomatomania, the uncontrollable obsession with words or names or their meanings or sounds.

Some may also have in mind the Greek (onyma, name), as in pseudonym, antonym, etc., or the Latin nomen (name), root nomin-, but it is easily seen that these are equally impossible.

Another attempt to etymologize the title as "The Book of Dead Names" breaks it down into nekros plus the non-existent and impossible form nomikon, a book of names.

Lovecraft himself offered a translation of the title:

The name Necronomicon ( [nekros], corpse; [nomos], law; [eik

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