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Cybus1 wrote:

Dawn in Arkham. The sun slowly rose over the gambrel roofs of the witch-haunted town, slowly burning through the fog that rolled off the Miskatonic River. Within Arkham Sanitarium, the poorest of God’s creatures awoke, sensing the dawn even where there are no windows. The ravers and screamers rose and cleared their throats to scream again, while others awoke to spend the day in their own private hells.

I was disappointed to find that Professor Ward’s first appearance with Hildred Castaigne was either somehow deleted, or I never posted it in the first place. I shall remedy that now. This is from September 2022:

The clouds were overcast, the weather chilly even for Massachusetts, wind from the mighty Miskatonic River that coursed through the center of town adding to the chill. This was the changeless, legend-haunted city of Arkham, with its clustering gambrel roofs that sagged and swayed over attics where witches hid from the King’s men in the dark, olden years of the Province of Massachusetts. The city sat astride the darkly muttering Miskatonic River, which rolled to the cold Atlantic, a small island sitting amid the river in the center of town, home to curious standing stones where the Devil supposedly held court. Gambrel-roofed buildings lined the streets, and there were very few skyscrapers; the city seemed trapped in another time.
The sleek black 1958 Citroen DS slid through the streets of Arkham, pulling to a stop outside the Classical Revival buildings of the famed Miskatonic University. The slim man behind the wheel was handsome enough, but his face was devoid of a smile. He had big blue eyes, taking in all the details around him, ever alert for Control operatives. Everything about him was perfectly arranged, from the neatly folded yellow pocket square protruding from his Savile Row suit to his neatly combed hair. He carried a briefcase, securely locked with a combination lock to which he alone knew the combination. He was here to get something evaluated. Miskatonic was a highly prestigious school, and had Hildred not attended Harvard, he likely would have attended Miskatonic instead. The school was famous for its archeology, physics, mathematics, and English programs, medical school, and above all, it’s extensive rare books collection, which included an extensive occult collection. The famous Orne Library housed such texts as The Necronomicon (in Latin, Greek, Arabic, and the English translation by John Dee), The Book of Eibon, Der Vermis Mysteriis, The Book of Azathoth, The Occido Lumen, Cultes Des Goules, The Pnakotic Manuscripts, The Book of Skals, the Egyptian Book of The Dead, The Munich Manual of Demonic Magic, Unaussprechlichen Kulten, and more. It was one of the largest occult book collections on Earth, and was secured in the restricted section of the library, under close watch. Access was restricted solely to university faculty, graduate or doctoral students, and legitimate scholars. Appointments were limited, and the head librarian had to be present at all times for the entire consultation of any of the books in the restricted section. But today, Hildred ignored the library.
Hildred had an appointment in the Archeology department, with a Professor Ward. Striding through courtyards and hallways and ignoring the students, many wearing the red and grey school colors or shirts celebrating the Miskatonic Myrmidons, the school football team, Hildred approached an office, the placard beside it reading “Professor Nathanial Ward”. Knocking first, Hildred entered.
Professor Nathanial Ward the II did not match Hildred’s expectations. Far from an elderly and frail professor, he was hale and fit, a man perhaps in his late 40’s, evidently quite accustomed to leading his own archeological expeditions and navigating crumbling ruins on his own. His great-grandfather, Nathanial Ward, had been a Miskatonic archeology professor of some fame from 1900 to 1949, writing several monographs of note and making interesting discoveries in Mexico, Peru, Egypt, The Marshall Islands, and other exotic locales: one of his most noteworthy discoveries was the Codex Beltrán-Escavy, a Pre-Hispanic codex depicting strange gods which did not appear in any other codexes. Professor Ward of the present day was carrying on his ancestors illustrious legacy, leading expeditions across the globe and in the Cybusian Empire. He dabbled in a variety of specialties, most notably Cybusian Studies, Meso-American Religions, Ancient Slavic cultures, and other, darker topics, and was already a famous figure in his field, having written several important monographs and led the excavation of several sites: most recently, he had uncovered a forest shrine to the Slavic god Perun, the thunder god, deep in the mountains of Czechia, with signs of activity and potential worship as recent as the late nineteenth century, suggesting a long-standing survival of paganism once thought eradicated long before.
He wore a button-up shirt and suspenders, and to Hildred’s surprise, was smoking. The professor put out his Morley cigarette in an ashtray. His voice was deep and a tad gravelly.
“Mr. Castaigne. Welcome, please come in. Take a seat.”
Hildred pulled up a chair to the desk, and noted a great many interesting specimens on shelves; statuettes, stone tablets, dozens of small specimens.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Professor Ward. I have an object I would like you to identify for me, if you can.”
“Yes, your correspondence was somewhat vague. I understand you found it among your brothers possessions?”
There was a brief, uncomfortable pause. Hildred didn’t care for mentions of his brother, but that was the explanation he had settled on to explain this artifact. He had actually acquired it discreetly some months ago, via a discreet third party specializing in fulfilling unusual requests. He was hardly conscious of doing so, but upon the mention of Louis, his hand went to his chest, protective of his scars from where his insane brother had eviscerated him.
“Yes. I found it among Louis’s belongings. It is…most unusual.”
He unlocked his briefcase’s combination lock, and pulled out a small statuette.
The thing stood a mere 6 inches tall, but it was the only thing either of them could look at. It was a strange, irregular construct. It was a 7 sided object, a heptagon, cast of a strangely bluish stone. The sides of the heptagon were covered in a bizarre curving script, strange glyphs not resembling any other script on the planet. As the sides rose, they became covered by tentacles, emerging from a horrific slightly squid-like head with six eyes arranged in two trios over the mass of feeler tentacles. The back of the heptagon was dominated by a pair of large wings, folded up on the back of the creature. As a stylistic choice, the creature’s wings curved upward, one of them higher than the other, almost like a scythe. Just looking at it was enough to give you a sense of unease, and it seemed to glow faintly.
Professor Ward picked up the object and turned it around in his hand a few times, looking closely. He frowned, and stared closely at the Franco-American banker.
“You say you found this among your brothers belongings? It’s no wonder the man went mad. This is…something very…unique. Possibly even dangerous.”
“It cannot be dangerous, it is a rock. But please, go on Professor.”
Ward hesitated and his tone became tense.
“There are certain books that identify this very object. I have seen these markings before, as did my great-grandfather. They are of an occult nature. Something dark. This creature you see is supposedly called Cthulhu, a creature of great power, yet a servant of far greater things that supposedly lurk in the cosmos. Made of an unusual material, one I’ve seen before but cannot identify. I cannot identify the age, but it is anything like similar objects I’ve seen, this may very well be many centuries old, possibly even older. Tell me…have you kept this object near you? Did your brother? Are you experiencing strange dreams? Did your brother complain of any strange dreams?”
Hildred was both fascinated and disturbed.
“I? Why no, I’ve kept it locked away. Louis did complain of strange dreams before he…”
Ward’s stony exterior softened.
“It’s ok, Mr. Castaigne. I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything more. And your certian you’ve had no strange dreams? No odd visions? Nothing at all out of the ordinary?”
Hildred shook his head.
“No, nothing at all. No dreams, nothing out of the ordinary. You seem to be attributing a lot to a hunk of rock, Professor.”
Ward seemed unconvinced.
“Hmmmm. This is what certain occult texts such as the Necronomicon and the Book of Eibon refer to as “reliquary of dreams”, and is purported to cause strange dreams, nightmares, and visions. I am glad you seem to be ok, but I strongly advise that you let me hold on to this for you Mr. Castiagne.”
Hildred frowned, irritated.
“I asked you to identify this object, Professor Ward, not to confiscate it from me! Please hand it back to me.”
Ward did so with obvious reluctance.
“I have warned you, Mr. Castaigne. If you should begin to have any strange dreams, I only ask that you return to me immediately or seek the help of a mental health professional and hand the object to the care of this department.”
Hildred took back the reliquary and locked it in his briefcase again.
“I understand, Professor. I appreciate your efforts to identify this object for me. Thank you.”
“You are welcome, Mr. Castaigne, but I still believe you’d be better off leaving in the capable hands of Miskatonic.”
Hildred’s polite tone didn’t change, but he frowned.
“This was my brothers. Now it is mine. I shall keep it and be perfectly fine, thank you very much Professor Ward. Good day.”
Hildred politely shook hands with the professor, and exited, striding back to his car through the sea of students who were excitedly buzzing about the upcoming game against Brown.

A scene with Hildred Castaigne (finally interacting with someone other than Johannes!), trying to learn more about the occult (since all he knows is what Johannes tells him), at H.P Lovecraft’s famous Miskatonic University. Ward is meant to evoke a bit of an occult Indiana Jones, and has almost certainly had some strange encounters over the years, hence his caginess with Castaigne. He might appear in another role at some point, or be referenced here and there by my more educated characters.
Also, I actually have a Reliquary of Dreams. It glows an ominous blue in the dark, but because my camera is terrible at taking night pictures, I’ve only included a daytime picture. I got it (and other fun Lovecraftian items) from an Etsy shop.
https://imgur.com/gallery/7EjtzsK