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GM The Cthaat Aquadingen was a rare book. There were only three known copies, each bound in human skin that were said to sweat on occasion. The three copies resided in Britain, the only publically known one was in the British Museum, and under lock and key (and possibly more). The other two copies were rumoured to lie with private collectors of the occult. There were only three copies. The fourth copy had wound its way to Silvermans book store. Bound in what looked like human skin, written in Latin, the book was a scrawl of writings on Dagon and the Deep Ones, Atlantis, the Serpent people, and full to the brim of horrible rituals and more horrible insinuations. And into the bookstore, soon after its mysterious arrival by untraceable postal delivery (complete with shaky hand writing “DO NOT READ, KEEP SAFE!”), stepped a man most keen to purchase this rare tome. A brown hued man with straggly brown hair, one glass eyes, and the other eye human but glassy. He was tall, stooped, and had a fixed grin. He licked his lips a little too much. His tailoring was good, however, wearing an excellent cut three piece suit. “I am looking for a most rare book. The Cthaat Aquadingen. I am purchasing for a private collector. I can pay you a handsome price, as many dubloons as you can carry!” he said in a firm voice. He carried a grey-steel box under his hand, and tapped it nervously, like it was alive.