Recommended music is Enclosed World / Liberation - Atrium Carceri. This will also be the recommend music for all future updates until another is given.You're in a thick, misty plot of woods. The moon hangs in the center of the sky, glaring at you; a cyclopean, threatening, daring scarlet eye stark against the black sky. In the distant, something gnaws on bones, a dark, violent cracking sound. It echoes through the knotted, twisting trees, looking for all the world like the tentacles of some mad cephalopod, making the direction impossible to determine. One thing, however, is certain; it's getting closer, steadily closer. Somehow, you know the terrible truth that it knows of you, it knows where you are, and that it is coming for you. Under the crimson moon's baleful gaze, you cannot move, and find yourself rooted in place, helpless to the Bonecrusher's advance. It draws nearer, shattering the underbrush, tossing aside trees calmly. Finally, it appears, just on the edge of your vision. It takes a huking form, and from its mouth falls a single femur; the rest of the skeleton devoured whole. As the beast begins to come closer still, it stops. Alongside all else, the hideous beast stops. The vile wind is no longer twisted into long, dying screams of the wraiths said to haunt this tree, and the blood red moon hangs eerily still in the sky. The thing raises a horrid, twisted arm, and brings it down horrendously slowly. Incapable of fleeing, you watch in a stupor as your undoubted doom falls towards you.
In an instant, you find yourself awake, in what you might tentatively call your home. Most of the walls are rotten through, and a cold wind blows across the small building, making sleep difficult. There is a roof, though, which provides shelter from any storms that arise, and allow you respite from the horrid, burning red moon. It's been the safest place you've found since the Convergence, when the Spirits came to Earth. Or perhaps when the humans came to the Land of the Spirits. Your blade lies by the bed, a simple iron one that you found long ago.
This, however, is the extent of what you can instantly remember. Whenever the red moon rises in your dreams, it always seems to go blank for a few hours. You did recently find a pen, though. You pick it up, along with a sheet of paper, and concentrate on a few basic details.
What is your name?
How do you prefer to fight?
When were you born?