Journal of Nicolas Douare

Summary

 * Location:
 * Author: Nicolas Douare

Content
By torchlight, the specimen appeared unremarkable. In life, it had been a sturdy youth, and wisps of brown hair were still visible on the crest of its yellowed skull. Its empty eye sockets stared at me, impassively, as I completed the necromantic incantation. At once, the torches in the room flared a bright, but unearthly shade of green. The pounding of my own heart filled my ears.

The awful event was very sudden, and wholly unexpected. The skeleton shuddered, and from the black void between its lipless grin, the most appalling succession of cries issued forth, echoing through the stone chamber of the crypt. I think I screamed myself as I stumbled frantically backwards.

It stood, impossibly, on fractured leg bones that should not have borne its full weight. By now my back was to the wall, as the reanimated skeleton turned to face me. The waiting was almost unbearable, and I closed my eyes to await my fate. When the anticipated attack did not occur, I opened my eyes. The creature stood at attention, its head bowed slightly, in supplication.

Now a raspy sound issued forth; a single word, in a barely audible hiss. "Massss ... terrrrr."

My first necromantic conjuration was an unqualified success. Soon, the entire crypt will be filled with minions to attend my every command! I think I shall find this place most accommodating.