Gyr'Draseth
GyrâDraseth â a vile name it is. I have no word that can describe the name of the Pharaohâs Servant other than inauspicious yet unsullied. Where I found that name is long gone by now, sunken deep in the sands like all the other relics, corpses, and scraps in the Sahara.
Every time I hear that name, I picture in my mind a man in a robe of charcoal and tar, a cloak of the Saharan sandstorms, the wings of an ibis, and a mask of the chaotic god, Seth. But I sometimes picture him as a mass of fleshy clay and sanguine mud, standing on six legs, stretching out four arms, and protruding hundreds of flailing tendrils. He would stare down at me with an eye of gold, glaring like the sun.
That image keeps me up at night, and the more it surfaces in my mind, the more it remains in my dreams. No dream catcher or medication can suppress this image clouding my mind. The Pharaohâs Servant calls to me in these dreams â he urges me to return to the sands where I first found his name. I cannot resist less I be haunted by this horrific angel in black to the point of madness.
From my home in Arkham to the Western Desert of Egypt, I prepared myself for a return to the sandy ocean. My expedition team was the same, plagued by my discovery of the name we know as GyrâDraseth. Some of them already succumbed to the visions, either committing suicide or developing mental disorders. It is I and I alone to be blamed for their fates, and I reunited them to fix what Iâve broken.
The name came from deep in the Sahara in a spot where sandstorms and winds never flow through. When my expedition team and I manage to return to that spot, all we found was a massive reservoir of quicksand. We thought it was all for naught until night came. The city of black sandstone resurfaced with red neon illuminating the ruins. This was where we found the name that the city calls GyrâDraseth.
As we reenter the city, it felt like the night would remain night forever more. I couldnât remember what happened as we went deeper into the city. The night brought darkness no light and pierce, and such darkness brought me to sleep.
When I woke up, I found myself on the surface of where the quicksand was. Latticed stains of blood were everywhere sprinkled with guts and flesh. They were the guts and flesh of my expedition team. And like the black sandstone city that was home to the name, they too will become long gone. I now leave them buried in those Saharan Sands. I came all this way to end the nightmare, and I did soâat a price. All that matter to me is that I return home.
After my return to Arkham, the name GyrâDraseth no longer brought haunting to me. Instead, Iâm plagued by whispers of the Seth masked god that is named GyrâDraseth.
His whispers promised me recognition from the Black Pharaoh who he serves. I am promised a grand prize once âHeâ arrives.
He is coming.


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