A Wrinkled Bonelord: What is this? An optically challenged entity called Player. How fascinating! Jogador: death A Wrinkled Bonelord: Yes, yes, I will kill you soon enough, now let me continue my investigation on you. Jogador: god A Wrinkled Bonelord: They will mourn the day they abandoned us. Jogador: job A Wrinkled Bonelord: I am the great librarian. Jogador: library A Wrinkled Bonelord: It's a fine library, isn't it? Jogador: name A Wrinkled Bonelord: I am 486486 and NOT 'Blinky' as some people called me ... before they died. Jogador: Tibia A Wrinkled Bonelord: It's 1, not 'Tibia', silly. Jogador: cyclops A Wrinkled Bonelord: Uglyness incarnate. One eye! Imagine that! Horrible! Jogador: elves A Wrinkled Bonelord: These fools and their superstitious life cult don't understand anything of importance. Jogador: Excalibug A Wrinkled Bonelord: Only inferior species need weapons. Jogador: Ab'Dendriel A Wrinkled Bonelord: I heard that elves moved in upstairs. Jogador: numbers A Wrinkled Bonelord: Numbers are essential. They are the secret behind the scenes. If you are a master of mathematics you are a master over life and death. Jogador: books A Wrinkled Bonelord: Our books are written in 469, of course you can't understand them. Jogador: 469 A Wrinkled Bonelord: The language of my kind. Superior to any other language and only to be spoken by entities with enough eyes to blink it. Jogador: orcs A Wrinkled Bonelord: Noisy pests. Jogador: minotaurs A Wrinkled Bonelord: Their mages are so close to the truth. Closer then they know and closer then it's good for them. Jogador: humans A Wrinkled Bonelord: Good tools to work with ... After their death, that is. Jogador: bye
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Wait right there. I will eat you after writing down what I found out.
