Cultist Simulator est un jeu de cartes inspiré de l'univers du célèbre H.P. LoveCraft. Ce titre a la particularité d'être centré sur la narration, faisant en sorte que vos choix façonnent le fil rouge de l'histoire. Combinez vos cartes pour raconter votre propre fil rouge dans une époque des années 20 en proie à l'imaginaire.
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I dedicated myself to the understanding of the Light that leaks from a fiercer place.
The Wood grows around the walls of the Mansus. As any student of Histories knows, the Mansus has no walls.
My body died. Perhaps my spirit entered the Mansus.
Despair, the wolf that devours thought, devoured me.
Speech may not pass the White Door, but I may.
I honoured my agreement, but I did not have a friend.
I dedicated myself to the fire that changes and remakes.
I dedicated myself to the mysteries of birth, blood and appetite.
I dedicated myself to the Hours which open doors.
I dedicated myself to the study of the five Histories, and their thousand demi-real branches.
I have answered the riddle of the Stag Door, and am counted among the Know.
I worked. I slaved. I lived a sort of life.
I no longer have any idea what is real, and what is not.
My trial was contentious. But thanks to the Inspector, here I am.
I will be honoured by my peers. And then, one day, I'll die.
I conjured a creature from beyond the skin of the world.
I have made the necessary sacrifice to enter the Mansus through the Spider Door.
It has pleased the Peacock Door to yield to my entry.
I dedicated myself to chaos, and the unexpected Hours.
I dedicated myself to the silence that comes and the cold that ends.
I dedicated myself to the drumbeat which can never end.
I cast a believer onto the Lantern's path.
I dedicated myself to the Hours of struggle and conquest.
I walked behind the Watchman. I will not grow old.
I pledged a believer to the Feast of the Grail.
I wrestled the Forge to victory. I will not grow old.
I gorged on the fruits of the sticky Grail. I will not grow old.
I shaped a mighty believer from the fires of the Forge.
I forged a believer into a true instrument of Knock.
I led a believer to the Wood of the Moth.
I drew a believer to the endless Dance of the Heart.
I sharpened a believer to their deadliest Edge.
.....................
I am a successful trophy.
I have become something winged, dark and undying; something that no longer exists.
I have joined the storm-chorus of the Thunderskin. Never shall I cease.
She ensures I have sweet dreams.
Our flesh may tire. We may grow old. But I will not regret.
She wants very much to be found.
We have become something winged, dark and undying; something that no longer exists.
We have joined the storm-chorus of the Thunderskin. Never shall we cease.
We walked behind the Watchman. We will not grow old.
We gorged on the fruits of the sticky Grail. We will not grow old.
We wrestled the Forge to victory. We will not grow old.
He is the melody of love, and I hear him now.
We dream the same pink dreams.
Our heartbeats quicken together.
Life is not easy with her.
Our house is home to fluttering things.
That is enough.
He thanks me afterwards.
I am well repaid.
Now we are scholars of the heart.
I am drunk with her.
I would not say it ended badly.
We seem a suited pair.
I may give him his reward.
We find, we think, a way.
I was lost to another I's glory
Our home is littered with his notes.
It is hard to tell, with him, whether to laugh or cry.
One by one we douse the flames.
We are happy, I think.
I was consumed, but another I rose higher
I was devoured, but another I rose higher
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