This article will not follow a typical narration, and will instead take the form of a poem written by Hastur. This is to better reflect the incomprehensibility of The Hanged King. I hope this clears up some things. Also, it's a bit NSFW, as there is gore.
An excerpt from Hastur's journal
In a land beyond land
Where all is black, yellow, red, and tan
Is where I met his horrifying hand
The Old Man is your only friend in this land of masks.
Though they seem to be like men,
those creature drink blood from their flasks
The castle seems to be mostly safe.
No guards to bribe, entrance is free.
But be warned, for if The Ambassador sees you,
you will soon meet insanity
You will be dragged into the throne room
and be forced to see the ruler of this land.
If not for me already being mad,
my life would have been taken by now using my two hands.
The Ambassador looked at me,
his stare as cold as ice.
He twisted my body in terrifying ways,
me eating my organs seemed to suffice.
Then he went up to The Hanged King,
Impaled on his royal throne,
and he lifted up the king's hair from his eye.
That stare made me realize how much I was truly alone.
If my faith were like that of the Egyptians or Rome,
then I would have believed he had reached apotheosis,
The emaciated ruler of this land
screaming as his corpse slowly turns back to sand
Realizing the things I had seen, I ran
But before I could leave, The Ambassador stopped me
and spoke into my ear
The noises he made, I didn't recognize, but the meaning was all to clear.
He wishes to spread his former body's influence,
Something I cannot let him do.
I plan to seal myself away in Alagadda
with this "Hanged King", too.