July 21, 1923
Dear Friends,

It has been several months since we last parted company - first in London, when our European colleagues saw us off, and then in New York, where we split up to find our ways home - and while it is doubtful that we shall all ever be united again at the same time, I still hope we will keep in close contact and remain good friends. Indeed, few people can boast of going through more difficult times than we few who survived the ordeal of this past winter.

Because it has been so long since we last talked, I thought a brief update on each of our party would be in order. Edward Hudson and Tilly Shaw have remained in London, where Tilly continues to work for the Times and Edward has recovered somewhat from his bout of insanity. From what I gather, the two have fallen madly in love and we might expect wedding invitations in the not too distant future. Miranda Vaughan has returned to Boston, where she teaches archaeology and anthropology at Boston's most prestigious university. Mac Cochran has returned to his antique store in Boston, where he now advertises his skills in parapsychology. I hear business has been booming. I have returned to my job at the New York City Municipal Library, but my nerves aren't what they used to be, and I plan to retire soon, perhaps to a small, sleepy coastal village like Kingsport or Insmouth.

Alas, but the number of our little group is but half of what it should be, for I would be remiss in leaving out our fallen comrades. Elizabeth Perkins, whom her friends called Mo, Constantine Bluestone, Madame Zelda, Miranda Marabou, Shirley Bath, and Ian Ambersom all perished on our quest. While I never knew Mo and Constantine, I sorely miss all of our friends who gave their lives in our noble cause. I feel especially saddened by the loss of Ian, who survived all the way to London, only to be destroyed by Makryat's last trick.

I have not been idle these past few months. I have taken the journals and diaries of our missing friends, plus questioned each of you at length about the happenings of last winter. Using this information, in addition to my own experience and help from several contacts in Europe, I have sketched together details of our quest. Consider it a log, or a brief history of our team's activity from this past December through March. Forgive the changing styles and rambling prose, for I had no idea what I was creating when I began, and I no longer have the courage, time, or strength of will to revise the older portions of this document.

It is appropriate that I began this letter speaking of friends, for all that comes after began when four of you sought to fulfill the last wishes of an old friend, and so I leave you with this history to peruse in order that we shall not forget.

Your friend,

Franklin Meyers

Prologue.