The Language of Bones
In the grand expanse of the Tower of Babel’s first floor, Ryok sprawled across 13 million square kilometers, serving as a habitat for two distinct races: humans and monsters.
As the Jade Knight, Rim traversed the tower’s depths in search of formidable adversaries. Amidst his quest, he stumbled upon an unexpected encounter. “You possess the gift of speech,” Rim remarked, eyeing the skeleton before him.
The skeletal figure inclined its head respectfully. “Indeed, I do. I assure you, I harbor no ill intentions,” it responded, genuflecting before Rim.
Amusement danced in Rim’s eyes. “I sought formidable monsters, yet here stands a skeleton with the gift of language. Pray, what manner of creature are you?”
“I cannot say,” the skeleton confessed. “I emerged from the earth within this forest, where I encountered other inhabitants. Regrettably, their primitive intellect hindered meaningful communication. Faced with hostility, I defended myself. Despite my attempts at dialogue, interactions often ended in fear or aggression. You are the first to lend me an ear.”
“Intriguing,” Rim mused. “You acquired our language through mere observation?”
“Yes,” the skeleton affirmed. “It proved less challenging than anticipated.”
Rim marveled at the creature’s intellect, a revelation that stirred his curiosity. “Since you have my attention, what is it you seek?”
“I desire to ascend this tower,” the skeleton declared.
“And why is that?” Rim probed.
“I cannot say,” the skeleton admitted. “Since my inception, an unyielding urge to climb has consumed my being.”
Rim chuckled, bemused by the enigmatic creature before him. “You lack knowledge of the tower’s purpose?”
“Correct,” the skeleton conceded.
“A peculiar day indeed,” Rim remarked. “To scale this tower, one requires ‘Guideline’. To obtain ‘Guideline’, one must slay a dragon. Go forth, little skeleton, and vanquish a dragon. In doing so, you may uncover the answers you seek.”
“Understood,” the skeleton acknowledged, rising to depart.
Left to ponder the encounter, Rim found himself perplexed by the unusual turn of events.
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The skeleton pondered Rim’s directive, contemplating the daunting task of slaying a dragon. With a purposeful stride, it ventured into the forest, keen on observing the tactics of its fellow inhabitants in the art of hunting.
Monster wolves prowled in packs, utilizing coordinated strikes to overwhelm their prey. Their keen senses and swift agility made them formidable adversaries, striking fear into the hearts of lesser creatures.
Bats, masters of the nocturnal realm, employed echolocation to pinpoint their quarry with uncanny precision. Darting through the shadows, they descended upon unsuspecting victims, their leathery wings slicing through the air in deadly silence.
Above, mighty rocs soared with majestic grace, their keen eyes scanning the earth below for signs of movement. With talons sharp as razors, they swooped down upon unsuspecting prey, delivering swift and merciless justice from the heavens.
Yet, amidst this savage ballet of predation, the skeleton found solace in observing human hunters. Armed with spears, swords, and bows, they stalked their prey with calculated precision, utilizing the tools of their trade to assert dominion over the natural world. Clad in armor forged from steel, they stood as paragons of ingenuity and adaptability, their prowess unmatched by any other creature in the forest.
Driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, the skeleton absorbed these lessons with rapt attention, discerning patterns and strategies that might prove useful in its quest to vanquish a dragon. With each passing moment, it grew ever more determined to hone its skills and emerge victorious in the face of adversity.
The skeleton exercised patience as its greatest ally. It shadowed the movements of humans, a silent observer in the dense foliage. Invariably, encounters between humans and creatures of greater strength ended in bloodshed, leaving behind a trail of discarded equipment.
Under the canopy of a towering tree, the skeleton meticulously excavated a hidden cache, a repository for the tools of fallen hunters. Unburdened by the constraints of mortality, it toiled ceaselessly, its bony fingers deftly arranging the spoils of its scavenging endeavors.
Days melded into weeks, and weeks into months, yet the skeleton remained steadfast in its vigil. It endured the thrill of pursuit, the adrenaline-fueled chase through the labyrinthine depths of the forest. Each encounter, whether fleeting or prolonged, yielded invaluable insights into the intricate dance of predator and prey.
Caught in the crosshairs of danger, the skeleton evaded capture with the grace of a wraith, a spectral wisp vanishing into the ether. Undeterred by adversity, it returned to its clandestine sanctuary, its resolve unshaken by the trials of its relentless pursuit.
And then, after a year of painstaking observation and tireless perseverance, the skeleton made its fateful decision. With grim determination etched upon its skeletal visage, it ventured forth, prepared to confront the dragon that had eluded its grasp for so long.
With a keen sense of direction honed by meticulous observation, the skeleton charted a course to the dragon’s lair. Guided by the clandestine movements of goblins, who offered up their meager treasures as tribute to the beast, the skeleton navigated the labyrinthine passages that led to the heart of the dragon’s domain. It was a path forged by the unwitting actions of lesser creatures, a trail of gold-laden breadcrumbs leading inexorably to its final destination.
Before embarking on this perilous journey, the skeleton exercised discernment, selecting only seven essential items from its vast arsenal of collected artifacts. Among them, the Robe of DorSnake stood as a formidable defense against the dragon’s fiery onslaught, its enchanted fabric woven with protective spells to withstand the inferno of draconic flames. The remaining tools were carefully stowed within a compact pouch, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.
With preparations complete, the skeleton ventured forth, its hollow frame imbued with a sense of purpose that transcended its spectral form.
As the skeletal figure traversed the treacherous terrain, it was beset by a horde of goblins, their primitive instincts driving them to attack the intruder with reckless abandon. Unfazed by their feeble attempts at aggression, the skeleton deftly wielded a small dagger, dispatching its assailants with effortless precision.
The goblins fell before the skeleton’s relentless onslaught, their blood staining the earth in a crimson display of carnage. With grim determination, the skeleton adorned itself with the viscera of its fallen foes, a macabre camouflage to mask its presence from the dragon.
As the skeleton ventured deeper into the cavernous depths of the dragon’s lair, it finally laid eyes upon its quarry—a colossal behemoth slumbering amidst a vast hoard of treasures. The dragon, in a state of hibernation, lay sprawled upon its bed of gold and jewels, its massive form shrouded in an aura of ancient power.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
In repose, the dragon exuded an aura of primal majesty, its scales gleaming with a lustrous sheen that reflected the flickering light of the cavern. Each breath it drew resonated with the rumble of distant thunder, a testament to the unfathomable depths of its slumber.
Ordinarily, the slightest disturbance would have roused the dragon from its reverie, its keen senses attuned to the slightest hint of intrusion. Yet, in the presence of goblins, the dragon remained ensconced in its dreams, unperturbed by their humble offerings.
Cloaked in the gore of its fallen adversaries, the skeleton moved with silent purpose, its skeletal frame barely stirring the air as it crept closer to the slumbering titan. With each cautious step, it prayed that its makeshift disguise would be sufficient to deceive the dragon’s senses, allowing it to approach undetected.
And then, as it beheld the dragon in all its magnificence, the skeleton couldn’t help but feel a surge of awe mingled with trepidation. “That thing is just too big,” it thought, its hollow sockets fixed upon the gargantuan creature before it.
The skeleton deftly retrieved three more items from its pouch—a match, a grail, and a candle. With practiced precision, it struck the match, igniting the candle’s flame. Placing the candle atop the grail, it positioned the makeshift altar before the slumbering dragon, waiting with bated breath for the moment of awakening.
As the fragrant aroma of the candle wafted through the cavern, the dragon stirred from its deep slumber, its eyes slowly fluttering open to behold the diminutive figure before it. “Oh, legend of the old. I, a mere skeleton, have come to challenge your reign,” the skeleton declared, its voice a mere whisper against the thunderous rumble of the dragon’s breath.
With a regal inclination of its head, the dragon regarded the skeletal interloper with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “And how do you intend to slay me, little one?” it rumbled, its voice echoing through the vast expanse of the cavern.
“For a year, I have pondered this question,” the skeleton replied, its hollow sockets fixed upon the dragon’s imposing form. “I have witnessed the fall of countless humans who dared to venture into this cave, their ambitions dashed against the might of your fury. Yet, despite their numbers, you remain the last of your kind, cowering in the shadows of this sanctuary.”
The dragon listened in silence as the skeleton continued its tale, recounting the fate of those who had dared to challenge its dominion. “You have become a symbol of fear and trepidation, a relic of a bygone era,” the skeleton declared, its voice tinged with a hint of solemnity.
The dragon’s gaze narrowed, a flicker of anger dancing in its fiery eyes. “Be cautious with your words, skeleton,” it warned, its voice a low growl that reverberated through the cavern.
“I observed the humans who escaped alive. They were filled with hatred and rage, their hearts heavy with the weight of their defeat and the loss of their comrades. Today, they march upon this cavern with a legion of ten Archmages and a thousand Mages, their intentions clear: to claim your life,” the skeleton declared, its voice echoing with the gravity of the impending conflict.
The dragon’s response was a roar of defiance, a primal eruption of flame that engulfed the cave in a tempest of fire. The skeleton, shielded by its enchanted robe, stood steadfast amidst the inferno, its form bathed in the flickering light of the dragon’s wrath.
As the flames subsided, leaving charred remnants in their wake, the skeleton struck the grail with a resounding clang, sending a reverberating echo cascading through the cavern. The dragon, momentarily stunned by the unexpected sound, regarded the skeleton with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
“The Grail,” the dragon mused, its voice a rumbling thunder that filled the air. “What is it that you propose, skeletal one?”
“Listen to me, oh great one,” the skeleton implored, its voice ringing with conviction. “An Archmage possesses the power to slay a dragon, and with ten of them united in purpose, your demise is assured. Should you fall at their hands, your magnificent form will be desecrated, your essence siphoned away to fuel their dark magics.”
The dragon hesitated, its pride warring with a growing sense of unease. “And what of your offer, skeleton?” it queried, its voice tinged with skepticism. “What guarantee can you provide that my remains will not fall into their hands?”
“The Grail,” the skeleton began, its voice carrying an air of profound significance. “It is no ordinary vessel. Six months past, a human mage ventured into this very cavern, wielding the Grail as a weapon against you. Do you recall, mighty dragon, the sting of his magic as it pierced your scales? The mage’s fate was sealed that day, his injuries too severe to survive. It was from his lifeless form that I claimed this precious artifact.”
The dragon regarded the skeleton with a mixture of astonishment and suspicion. “And what of the candle within the Grail?” it inquired, its curiosity piqued by the skeleton’s revelations.
“The candle burns with a potency beyond measure,” the skeleton explained, its words carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. “Its fumes possess the power to soothe the fiercest of warriors, calming their nerves before battle. And within the confines of this cavern, it serves to pacify your own formidable rage, keeping you bound in slumber.”
The skeleton’s gaze met the dragon’s with unwavering resolve. “With your blood, I shall awaken the true power of the Grail,” it declared, its voice resonating with a sense of purpose. “Once infused with your essence, the Grail shall manifest as the Holy Grail, granting me the ability to make three wishes. And with those wishes, I shall ensure that you find peace in death, ascending to a higher state of being.”
The dragon’s skepticism was palpable as it regarded the skeleton with narrowed eyes. “How is it that you possess such knowledge?” it demanded, its tone edged with suspicion.
“I have delved into the annals of history, uncovering the secrets of your kind hidden within the depths of time,” the skeleton revealed, its voice carrying the weight of a year of exploration. “I have scoured the lairs of your predecessors, deciphering the ancient texts left behind by the Supreme Dragon, Uga. And it was through this relentless pursuit of knowledge that I stumbled upon the truth of your ascension.”
A sense of incredulity washed over the dragon as it processed the skeleton’s words. “You, a mere monster, have deciphered the dragon tongue?” it questioned, its disbelief tinged with a hint of awe.
“Yes,” the skeleton affirmed, its conviction unwavering. “And it is through this understanding that I offer you this chance at peace, mighty dragon. Trust in me, and together we shall forge a path to transcendence.”
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I am an Skeleton
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The Lost Prophecy.
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First Page
In the shadows of Ryok, where towers touch the sky,
A humble skeleton, with a whispering sigh,
Shall rise from the earth, where secrets lie deep,
To awaken the tower from its ageless sleep.
With the gift of speech, a language unlearned,
It shall seek the truth, where destiny is earned.
To climb the tower’s heights, it must first face its bane,
A dragon’s fiery breath, its trial, its gain.
Through forests dense and caverns dark,
The skeleton shall journey, its purpose stark.
With courage as its guide, and wisdom as its shield,
It shall wield ancient knowledge, its fate to wield.
In the dragon’s lair, where shadows dance,
The skeleton shall stand, its final chance.
With words of power and promises bright,
It shall offer the dragon peace or endless night.
Disturbing the natural flow, its ascent takes flight,
The tower trembles, as darkness meets light.
Warriors clash, their ground soaked in blood,
Ancient kings fall, their kingdom’s once proud.
Yet amidst the chaos, a prophecy unfolds,
Vengeance of the past, its tale retold.
For the skeleton, now a god, emerges from the fray,
Its destiny fulfilled, in the light of a new day.