The story of Simurai, the Bonelord King.
I had heard stories of unfinished quests, great items obtainable only through great perseverance.
One particular legend which was always dwelling in the back of my mind, the mystery of the Bonelord language, 469, and what can be learned from creatures who have inhabited Tibia since before the introduction of human-kind.
It was with this in mind that I decided I must delve deep into the earth beneath Ab’dendriel and find out for myself what lay under the elven city. I packed my supplies carefully, for I knew this expedition may be my last, I had heard of the unholy creatures which swarm below the earth, a great necropolis of necromantic fiends, worshipping Zathroth and trapping any unsuspecting humans, only to be subjected to their foul practices.
Beyond the teleport which took me down into the abyss, I saw great machinery splattered with blood, the stench of rotten bodies drifting up the passage towards me, all I could see was a black opening, even the walls seemed to want to swallow me, denying me to ever leave these ancient tombs. I had no choice but to use the magic I had learned years ago from my master,
‘Utevo Lux’, I whispered, only allowing enough light to make my way tentatively down the tunnel, not wanting any spying eyes to see me.
I passed into a large graveyard, full of headstones, mounds of dank earth surrounding me, halfway across the room I heard a grinding, scraping noise from behind me, I hurried forward only to slam into yet another wall of seeping, old earth, worms crawling through the ground beneath my feet, as I turned back my eyes were filled with the horrors that lay before me, pouring out from the earth like ants spilling out the top of an ant hill, skeletons and ghouls, flesh dropping from their putrid, decaying faces. They lurched towards me, grumbling, sensing the warmth of my blood, the fear pumping through my nervous system. My legs were becoming entangled in the grip of strong wet arms, congealed blood oozing through the cracks in their decomposed skin, I realized I was being pulled into the ground, they were trying to bury me alive.
With every ounce of strength I could muster, I screamed a holy incantation, the room was filled with a sudden burst of great warm light, the evil creatures hissed as it burned them, scorching bone and searing flesh, I took my chance and broke free of their grip, charging for the passage I had entered through, I managed to escape.
I could not turn back, the only option was to push onward, deeper, ever deeper into the vast nothingness of Hellgate. Every way I turned there seemed to be enemies, even the worms that squirmed like maggots higher up, had now become large leering rotworms, fat mouth bulging with mismatched teeth, searching the cave floor for some morsel of food to devour, I delved my spears deep into their bellies to stop them from chewing my feet as I rested.
What seemed like days later, since I had no way of judging time in the darkness, I finally managed to locate the great necropolis of Hellgate. I had passed through tombs of restless undead, great rivers of lava, waterfalls of fire, passages steeped with muck, centuries old and riddled with creatures trying to find scraps of food from decaying travelers.
It was in some ways beautiful, but the whole place stunk of death and decay, a festering deep, a whole world away from the lands above ground, this was like something from a nightmare. Skulls littered the floor, every way I looked I could see human bones, elven bones, even the remains of dwarves, or were they children? I could not tell. At the entrance of the undead city there was a tower, with a lone sentinel, a reanimated demon skeleton, glowing red with the power it’s necromantic master had channeled into it. I swiftly slipped on my invisibility ring and passed unchallenged into the city, undetectable to the glowing scarlet eyes of the skeleton.
It was my mission to find anything I could that might reveal secrets of the Bonelord race, but I had brought tools which might help me find out in other ways..
As I searched through the lifeless settlement I came upon a staircase, carefully I climbed the flight of stairs and to my great excitement I had found some sort of necrotic library. I cautiously took a damp, musky book down from the shelf. Only to find that there were no words within the pages, only numbers, thousands upon thousands of them. I decided that uncovering the secrets of some form of numerical code could take years, so I packed as many of their books into my backpack as I could carry and headed for the exit. Only then as I moved through the aisles did I notice the eyes focusing on me, eyes on stalks, never blinking. I was frozen with fear and did not move, nor did the creature move to attack me, but I heard it, I heard it talking in my head, telepathically entering my brain.
“Why have you come here, mortal man, to disturb our great necropolis, and steal from our library, which you will never understand?” The Bonelord could sense my intentions, his countless eyes never straying from my dark silhouette in the archives. I tried to focus my mind and converse with the monster, but I could not think over the constant stream of words he was bringing to the front of my mind.
“This is your tomb”, “A human brain is too weak to understand our language”, “Weak human, prepare to die”Snapping out of the trance I was under, I pulled my bow from my back and in a split second nocked an arrow to it, enchanting it with fire as I released it at close range, directly into the central eye. It sunk deep into the eyeball, only the flaming feathers stuck out of the pupil like a burning chicken wing flapping about as the monster blinked furiously, the flesh of his eye seared and boiling around the wound where the magic arrow still flamed. I ran for the stairs and thrust myself down them, making my way toward the exit. It was to no avail, the Bonelord had telepathically sounded the alarm.
Hordes of undead were flocking toward me, forcing me into a corner, I realised I had been forced into a sacrificial chamber, bloody altars covered in remains, carcasses littering the floor like confetti. I charged towards the altar, pulling arrows from my quiver, blessing them with Fafnir’s fire as I leaped upon the stone altar and rained down fire upon my foes. Wave upon wave of undead was met with wave upon wave of burning arrows, torches lighting the dark cavern with the flame engulfed bodies of reanimated corpses. After what seemed like hours, I pulled another arrow to my bow, only to look for a target which was not there. All was silent but for the steady crackle of flame devouring flesh, bubbling bodily fluids seeping from severed limbs. Jumping down from my perch I pulled a dying Bonelord up to the altar, it was still blinking slowly at me, the malice gone from its eyes, they looked tired, spent. I knew I must take something back home with me, something I could study alongside the books I had... 'borrowed'.
I pulled my saw and cleaver from my rucksack, and began chopping into the cranium of the beast. After many sweaty minutes of hacking through the ancient, green flesh and bone, I managed to wrench the brain from the carcass, still pulsating, tingling with primordial energy, I wrapped the brain and stashed it away with my supplies. The journey back through Hellgate was not uneventful, as I am scared of wasps, but that is another story…
The lobotomy of a Bonelord:
Gaby-chan Fri Sep 27, 2013 5:53 am
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