"The Adventures of Nova Scotia Blackman" - Tomb of Annihilation, Chapter 0

by Jeffery Low

My name is John Henry Blackman. I was born in Halifax Nova Scotia on August 23rd,1886. I was the youngest child of four girls and two boys. My parents worked hard to give us kids a good education. My grandparents,  Granpa Boone and Meema Rose, were runaway slaves who sought refuge in Canada in the 1860s. I attended the Royal Acadian School and played in the Coloured Hockey League. I graduated with honours from Dalhousie University and earned my PhD in history from Dartmouth. By 1920 I had become the only coloured faculty member at Miskatonic University. My specialty was ancient cultures. I had a special fascination with the so-called lost cultures - Atlantis, Lemuria, Shamballha, Mu, and the like.

In 1920, I led an expedition to Greenland to investigate the discovery of ruins trapped beneath a glacier. Accompanied by my trusty student assistant, Damon Meier, I explored what appeared to be an ancient tomb constructed of black granite. We passed down a long gallery of columns and found a deep shaft with a spiral staircase. 

We descended the staircase and discovered a side chamber. Within the chamber was a shallow basin atop a thick plinth. I nervously entered the chamber followed closely by Meier. 

The basin was filled with a sticky black fluid. I carefully reached out to prod the fluid with my ice axe. To my surprise, the fluid rose up and engulfed me! 

I was enveloped in darkness and unable to breathe. I struggled in vain against the inky substance that had swallowed me. In that last moment before I passed out, I thought I was done for! 

When I awoke, I was lying alone on a flat slab of black stone on a tropical plain. There was no sign of Damon Meier or the black liquid. I had no idea how I might have been transported from frigid Greenland to my current location. 

I explored my surroundings and soon encountered primitive tribes from what I believed at the time to be western Africa. I quickly learned the rudiments of the local language and enlisted their aid in making my return to civilization. To my confusion, they directed me towards the northeast - towards what I believed to be the Sahel and the Sahara. I hesitantly complied and was surprised to encounter a jungle habitat where I expected a desert and a great medieval city on the shores of a northern sea!

It was there in the ancient city of Akwa-Obio that I made a startling discovery - I was no longer on the planet Earth!

It was my great fortune that I stumbled across Akwa-Obio. The city was the home of a library rivaling that of ancient Alexandria and an institution of learning and philosophy like that of Athens. I was among learned scholars and sages. 

I soon learned that I was on the world of Antara - so named because it was the hidden twin of Earth, existing invisibly alongside Earth and accessible via certain locations and arcane rituals. Antara was the source of the many legendary tales of Atlantis, Avalon, Hybrasil, Hyperborea, and Shamballah. Stories of these lands came to Earth via travellers who somehow crossed over and returned.

Antara was a land of magic and monsters populated by all manner of inhuman races and cultures. Somehow I had found myself transported to a world out of the vivid imagination of Jules Verne or Edgar Rice Burroughs!

My own Earthly origin and scholarly background made me somewhat of a celebrity in the Academy of Akwa-Obio. I became friends with the scholarch of the Academy, an old philosopher named Maara Ihe. Maara Ihe gave me shelter and access to the great library. I learned much about the world in which I now inhabited. Throughout this time I continued to search for a way to return home. Others had apparently managed the feat so I was confident that with enough research I could find the way. 

Maara Ihe was elderly and other scholars envied his position. He knew his time as Scholarch of the Academy was coming to an end.

On the day of his death, Maara Ihe warned me that his rivals viewed me as a curiosity to be studied and wished to prevent me from returning home. As soon as he passed they would confine me to my quarters. He told me to flee the city and seek out a man named Artus Cimber.

Artus Cimber was a former student at the Academy who himself had studied the means of crossing over from Antara and Earth. Artus was last seen in the city of Port Nyanzaru in Chult. He told me to seek him there.

With the passing of my mentor I grabbed what little possessions I owned - my leather coat, my wide-brimmed hat, and my trusty leather whip - and fled the city of Awka-Obio.

I booked passage on the ship Karanja travelling to Port Nyanzaru under the command of Captain Abasi.

Along the way we picked up some additional passengers - a motley assortment from across Antara. I have endeavoured to speak with them and learn their strange customs. I feel I have earned their trust and friendship.

I met a woman with blue skin whose name is Apparently Jones - a strange name perhaps hinting at an Earthly origin? She hails from Akasa, a land of floating islands and hovering mountains among which travel flying airships. She was a former crew member on one such airship. She was an animal handler and a skilled huntress. She was travelling to Port Nyanzaru in search of work. One of the other passengers told me that her blue skin is reportedly the result of her unusual parentage - her father is nothing less than a genie, no doubt from 1001 Arabian Nights!

I made the acquaintance of a man named Bramble Wolf. Mr. Wolf possessed dark skin like myself though his features possessed a strangely bestial countenance. Mr. Wolf was a wise-man of an animistic faith, similar to a shaman or witch-doctor on Earth. He described his people as "Therans" and explained that he was travelling to Chult to find the legendary source of his tribe.

One of the most interesting beings I met on my journey was a bird-man named Qhallebbewk Zriri. Mr. Zriri hailed from a noble family of the aerial city of Aarokar-Nasaris in Akasa. Mr. Zriri was a high-born aristocrat. I came to learn that he was the third-born of his house with little prospect of inheritance. His boorish behavior caused some sort of offence at court so his family banished him from the capital city. Ostensibly he was travelling on pilgrimage to all the colonies of Aarokar-Nasaris. In truth he wished only to perform a great act of heroism that would earn him glory and fame sufficient to forgive his transgressions at home.

Finally there was the jaguar-man named Xoc-Wik. Mr. Wik was a warrior from the jungle land of Bres far to the west. His feline people were known as "B'alam". Mr. Wik was an odd fellow with unusual mannerisms. I eventually learned that he was the only survivor of some kind of tribal genocide. He had travelled the world in search of the group responsible for the death of his people. His next destination was Port Nyanzaru.

The journey was uneventful. We were crossing the equator and the skies were clear. Xoc-Wik was the first to notice something was wrong - there was restlessness among the crew. He had noticed them whispering among each other conspiratorially.  Something was afoot.

Thanks to Xoc-Wik's warning, we were prepared for what happened next.