Skull's Profile

The road ahead is of the dead
So travelers take heed
And lightly tread o'er those that bled
For lands and kings and greed.
The victor spared no man that dared
To try and take his throne.
So thus he paved a road that's made
Of vanquished soldiers' bones.
The road ahead is full of dread
So travelers beware
And tarry not lest you be caught
By the echoes of despair.
For the road beneath your wandering feet
Of dead men once so brave,
Will clutch and grab and wrench and drag
You to an early grave.

You are suddenly awakened but something is very wrong. You are underwater. Breaking the surface and gasping for breath you see your sailing vessel is merely splinters in the sea and a great Kraken thrashes overhead. You see land in the distance, but, can you make the swim?

You open the doors to a crypt that has been shut for over a century. The stench of decay is long gone but the air is heavy, musty and weighted with an uneasiness you have never before felt... It is almost as if the mausoleum itself is aware of your intrusion... Or, perhaps, something still yet stirs within...