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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Job" data-source="post: 4007661" data-attributes="member: 37196">Beyond those gates...**Deep in his dream the great bird whispered queerlyOf the black cone amid the polar waste;Pushing above the ice-sheet lone and drearly,By storm-crazed aeons battered and defaced.Hither no living earth-shapes take their courses,And only pale auroras and faint sunsGlow on that pitted rock, whose primal sourcesAre guessed at dimly by the Elder Ones.If men should glimpse it, they would merely wonderWhat tricky mound of Nature's build they spied;But the bird told of vaster parts, that underThe mile-deep ice-shroud crouch and brood and hide.Gold help the dreamer whose mad visions showThose dead eyes set in crystal gulfs below![sblock=Impact of Martin's dream]-1 Sanity loss for Martin and a new phobia of large birds or shadows of flying creatures that might turn out to be a large bird.Please adjust your character sheet.[/sblock]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Job (the tortured one).**Written by H.P. himself</blockquote>