The Cranium Chronicles

The dark streets of the city were silent, seemingly devoid of people aside from the occasional beggar or thief. Femur Scapular was standing in an alley, party concealed by the wall of the local inn. It was a beautiful night, with an enormous full moon and a comfortable temperature, but Femur was oblivious to this fact. His attention was entirely on a woman standing just outside the inn, seemingly waiting for someone.

“Mr. Engelbrekt!” she suddenly yelled, “over here, over here!”

Femur watched with anger as a tall, muscular man clad in a dark cloak emerged from the woods behind the inn, and proceeded to walk up to the woman while showing a nasty grin.

“Hehe…I’ve been waiting for this all week. Do you mind if I come with my friends next time? I’m sure you can handle at least that much at your level of skill.” The man said, still grinning. Femur furiously watched the couple as they hooked arms and entered the inn, but held himself back from rushing after them.

Femur had arrived in the small village two years earlier with his wife, and had quickly established himself as the go-to smith in the village. His shop had been situated just by the palisade, behind the inn, a location that previously had rarely seen activity. This changed almost immediately after he set up shop, as droves of customers began visiting him for repairs, purchasing tools and weapons, or just to talk. Being so close to the inn was a blessing as well, since adventurers would often stop by to replenish supplies or repair equipment. There were no farmers in the village, as it relied on its location between the eastern outpost of the empire, the great city of Lycroin, and the ancient dungeon that had spawned a decade ago.

While the village was small, it was uncharacteristically rich for its size. All inhabitants were either shopkeepers, craftsmen or soldiers, all of which were lucrative professions and were the reason for the village being made out of stone houses. Merchants would arrive every week with supplies of food and ore, and adventurers from the dungeon would sometimes stop by to sell the treasure they’d found in there. It was a perfect example of a trading post turned village.

Femur was snapped back to reality by the sound of people exiting the inn. It was the same woman he’d seen entering earlier, and he wasted no time tailing her back to her home. After making sure that the woman had arrived home safely, Femur quickly returned to the inn. He knew that the man was a traveling adventurer, since he didn’t recognize him, and thus had to be staying at the inn. He made his way toward the wall of the inn, looking up to see a window above him. Femur immediately started climbing the wall, an endeavor which was made substantially easier by his now insignificant weight. He had been a large man, with muscle that threatened to burst through his clothes, but now, while he had retained his immense strength, his body was almost weightless, and he could easily have lifted a body ten times his size. Femur finally reached the window, and gazing in, he smiled inwardly. Inside the room was a visibly nude man sleeping soundly on a narrow straw bed, and a chair on which a dark cloak hung. Femur didn’t bother being sneaky anymore, he clenched his fist, and swung it against the window. It shattered instantly, sending shrapnel flying towards the man on the bed.

Samuel was abruptly awoken by a jolt of pain. He instantly recognized the feeling of a deep stab wound, just like the one he’d once contracted in the smoldering ruins of his hometown. He quickly rolled to the side, forgetting that there was a bed under him, and promptly fell to the floor. Being used to sleeping on the ground evidently had its cons, he discovered, as he was pierced by the unknown attacker before having a chance to get away. He howled, hoping that it might attract the other guests at the inn, and threw himself towards the door, but to no avail. A bony hand grasped his leg before he could reach it, which forced him around to face the attacker…

The horrifying visage which met his eyes caused him to wet himself for the first time since that time with his sister. It was like nothing he’d seen before, or even imagined in his worst nightmares. Something that should by all rights be dead was standing before him, bleached bones rattling as it moved its arm towards his face. The full moon shone behind it, reducing it to a silhouette surrounded by moonlight. As the skeleton stabbed its fingers towards his eyes, a faint whisper could be heard in the distance, “Spooky scary skeletons, send shivers down your spine…”

Femur looked again at the corpse lying in front of him. Since he’d died, his wife had sold all his belongings, and purchased a house in the middle of the village. She’d shown no signs of sorrow ever since he fell ill, and had even taunted him by his deathbed. He knew now that she had never loved him, and that she’d only married him because of his skill with the hammer and anvil, but he still couldn’t bring himself to exact revenge on her, and settled for killing any man which she took to bed. After he passed away, she had begun sleeping around with passing adventurers at her own leisure, probably to torment his ghost even in the afterlife. He glanced down toward his bony hands, admiring their glistering whiteness, and laughed. His wife might have wanted to torment him in death, but she’d soon realize that upsetting the dead had consequences. He let out a mad laughter, and spoke; “shrieking skulls will shock your soul, seal your doom tonight”.

Somewhere, far, far away, in the darkness, an ancient force stirred as it heard a mortal call it once again. A great skeletal hand rose from an enormous pit as the seals binding it were shattered. It solemnly grasped a golden music instrument surrounded by magical traps and seals, and raised it. In the dark tomb, a great skull rose from the pit that moments before had spawned the skeletal hand, and started making its way towards it. After the skull had arrived at its position behind the shining instrument, it visibly drew a breath, and when it put its teeth against it, a single sound emerged. All powerful individuals on the continent felt energy run through them for a split second, and widened their eyes in horror. It was leagues stronger than anything they’d felt before, and they shuddered in fear. A being stronger than even the most powerful dragons had been let loose on the world, and now their own fate, as well as that of the entire world, was in the hands of the gods.