What's wrong with some online novels, to loosely paraphrase a team member here?
Here ya go.

I wandered as a beggar, being fed from town to town as the local people saw fit, often being stoned instead or threatened with imprisonment. On occasion, I was able to convince some learned man that I was a sincere scholar, and was thereby permitted to read the Ancient Records in which the details of necromancy, sorcery, magick and alchemy are given. I learned of the spells that cause men illness, the plague, blindness, insanity and even death. I learned the various classes of demons and evil gods that exist, and of the old legends concerning the Ancient Ones. I was thus able to arm myself against the dread Maskim, who lie in wait about the boundaries of the world, ready to trap the unwary and devour the sacrifices set out at night and in deserted places; against the she-devil LAMMASHTA, who is called Sword that Splits the Skull, the sight of whom causes horror and dismay, and (some say) death of a most uncommon nature.
In time I learned of the names and properties of all the demons, devils, fiends and monsters listed herein, in this Book of the Black Earth. I learned of the powers in the astral Gods, and how to summon thier aid in times of need. I learned, too, of the frightful beings who dwell beyond the astral spirits, who guard the entrance to the Temple of the Lost, of the Ancient Days the Ancient of the Ancient Ones, whose Name I connot write here.
In my solitary ceremonies in the hills, worshipping with fire and sword, with water and dagger, and with the assistance of strange grass that grows wild in certain parts of the MASSHU, and with which I had unwittingly built my fire before the rock, that grass that gives the mind great power to travel termendous distances into the heavens, as also into the hells, I recieved the formulae for the amulets and talismans which follow, which provide the Priest with safe passage among the spheres wherein he may travel in search of the Wisdom.
But now, after One Thousand-and-One moons of the journey, the Maskim nip at my heels, the Rabishu pull at my hair, Lammashta opens her dread jaws, AZAG-THOTH gloats blindly at his throne, KUTULU raises his head and stares up through the Veils of Sunken Varloorni, up through the Abyss, and fixes his stare upon me; wherefore I must with haste write this Book lest my end come sooner than I had prepared. For indeed, it appears as though I have failed in some regard as to the order of the rites, or to the formulae, or to the sacrifices, for now it appears as if the entire host of ERESSKIGAL lies waiting, dreaming, drooling for my departure. I pray the gods that I am saved and not perish as did the Priest, ABDUL BEN-MARTU, in Jerusalem (the gods remember and have mercy upon him!). My fate is no longer writ in the stars, for I have broken the Chaldean Covenant by seeking power over the Zonei. I have set foot on the moon, and the moon no longer has power over me. The lines of my life have been obliterated by my wanderings in the Waste, over the letters writ in the heavens by the gods. And even now I can hear the wolves howling in the mountains as they did that fateful night, and they are calling my name, and the names of the Others. I fear for my flesh, but I fear for my spirit more.
SMF team politics in a nutshell.
