A Letter to Kōhaku Narukami

Amid a serious of grisly murders plaguing the new Waterfront District, graduate student Beatriz de Oliveira continues her translation efforts for folklorist Kōhaku’s Narukami’s Book of Living Myths. The most recent section, titled “The Ravenous Undead,” might prove useful for the investigators assisting Detective Reynolds with the murder cases. Meanwhile, during a visit to the Orne Library, Beatriz receives a mysterious tip from an academic whose identity she must conceal. Read Beatriz’s letter to Kōhaku Narukami regarding a particularly unnerving set of discoveries, which taken together could be a clue to what’s really going on…

Dear Mr. Narukami,

Thank you for your notes on my translation of “The Ravenous Undead” – I shall implement them alongside changes to the other new chapters shortly. I must confess that I have found the notion of these blood-drinkers darkly fascinating. Something about them lingers uncomfortably in my imagination. Unable to divert myself with mundane affairs, I felt obliged to check again a reference in De Vermis Mysteriis at Miskatonic University’s Orne library. While immersed in the text, I was approached by an academic (whom I will refer to as Gale to protect their anonymity) who, having noticed inquiries related to my research, wished to share a particularly unnerving set of discoveries.

Gale provided detailed accounts and supporting evidence leaving me with little doubt as to the authenticity of these assertions. The following is a summary of their story. During an expedition to Romania, funded by an undisclosed party, excavating archeologists uncovered a hidden structure. Inside the anteroom, they found relics and tablets that were translated as prayers to the “Life-Bringer.” A more thorough translation later revealed another name: Zburamoarte.

In the deepest part of the structure, the expedition discovered what at first appeared to be the mummified corpse of some sort of mutated beast – a massive, leather-winged monstrosity with features resembling a bat. It soon became clear that the entity was still, miraculously and horrifyingly, alive. Not only that, but it possessed an immense amount of strength – so much so that it took the efforts of nearly a dozen men to bind the creature, but not before several expedition members met sudden, gruesome ends.

Based on what I could cross-reference and discern from the ship’s manifest and other logs, it is very likely both the creature and the artifacts were transported back to Arkham to be studied. Here, Gale revealed her confidential position as a researcher translating these recovered artifacts but expressed no direct knowledge of the creature itself. It should be kept in mind that the following is an imperfect summary of text that has been through several layers of translation and as such there may be errors or nuance yet to be identified.

In the tablets, the Life-Bringer is described as having sacred blood capable of curing any ailment. This blood is offered willfully by Zburamoarte when the creature is properly sated. Worshippers would regularly offer themselves or abducted persons as sacrifices to be drained of their blood, and this practice was considered a great privilege.

Those who consumed Zburamoarte’s blood would be transformed into a “Child of Blood.” The tablet describing the transformation’s specifics was heavily damaged, but it seems that forced isolation and starvation of the participant was believed to accelerate the process. Once the transformation was complete, the imbiber would be free of diseases and made physically whole, though their mental faculties would significantly diminish. The worshippers viewed this as a gift of mental clarity and an escape from the mind’s suffering. The newly born Child of Blood would be concerned only with its absolute submission to its progenitor and an insatiable desire for fresh blood.

In pursuit of supporting historical evidence of Zburamoarte and its worshippers, I discovered striking similarities in a traveler’s record who had documented the aftermath of the Black Death outbreak in France in the 1300s. The traveler had come across a peculiar village nearly untouched by the catastrophe. When inquiring about their good fortune, a young girl relayed that anyone who became sick went to “Père ailé” or the “Winged Father” to be healed. When the traveler asked to speak to this Winged Father or to visit with another survivor, the village harshly denied him and sent him away.

Gale concluded with a rather ominous observation: that some surviving members of the expedition and those that funded the endeavor seem particularly fixated on the possible applications of this creature’s blood, but to what end – and where this creature may have ultimately ended up – they could not, or would not, say.

While I am now well acquainted with these myths, I am troubled by how close to home Gale’s story is. I begin to doubt that we are studying folklore and that it is in fact something altogether more present in our world. Enclosed are an item from the Arkham Advertiser which may be related, and an unsettling sketch that Gale pressed into my hand before their rapid departure.

Yours sincerely,

Ana Beatriz Santamaria de Oliveira
Graduate Student
School of Languages
Farnsworth College of Humanities
Miskatonic University

The Children of Blood small campaign expansion for Arkham Horror: The Card Game is on sale now! And if you’d like to read portions of the Book of Living Myths itself, you’ll find pages in Welcome to Arkham: An Illustrated Guide for Visitors. 

Written by Leah Hawthorne with Nick Tyler