On Hastur

"Once, we believed in a god, in his promise of eternal serenity within Carcosa's magnificent walls. We lived, we died, expecting to awaken in our promised paradise. But alas, our god had fallen, our paradise with him. What awaited us was not the heavenly city we had dreamt of, but a desolate wasteland echoing with the lament of its abandoned souls. Imagine expecting heaven, only to find a barren, godless realm. Imagine the horror of discovering this truth not in death, but in life. Whether you believe in heaven or not, the thought of an eternity spent in such a place is enough to shatter the sanity of any man. And so we come to Hastur, the King in Yellow. Once a man like us, reborn in this desolate realm, he chose to rule over the ruins, the false king of a fallen heaven. See Carcosa for what it truly is, and know the horror of the King in Yellow's rule."

--King Aer, to the Party

"Ah, you mortals. Always yearning for certainty, groping blindly in the dark for that elusive thread of unchanging truth. For you, the mere belief in such a beacon is a balm to the raw wounds of your existence. So you dream of your Carcassonne, your utopia built of sand and sea foam. You stitch together a tapestry of hope from the tattered remnants of your reality, weaving illusions and masks to obscure the stark disappointment of your mundane existence. This, at least, you believe to be better.

But what you fail to grasp, my dear uninvited guests, is that beneath the mask of your hopeful illusions, beneath the shining beacon of your dreams, lies the unspeakable horror of the void.

Behold, I am Hastur, the King in Yellow. I am the avatar of that void, the embodiment of the cosmic horror that lurks just beyond the thin veneer of your illusions. The dread you feel at my name, the horror that gnaws at your sanity, is but a glimmer of the true terror of the universe. Welcome to my realm, where masks fall away, and illusions shatter. Welcome to the harsh light of reality."

--Hastur, to the Party