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.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: What is this? An optically challenged entity called Player. How fascinating!
A Wrinkled Bonelord: It's a fine library, isn't it? All this knowledge! All those books!
A Wrinkled Bonelord: I heard that elves moved in upstairs.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Our race is very old. Over the time, we have been given many different names by other races. The term bonelord sticks to us for quite a while now. In our language the name of our race is not fix but a complex formula, and as such it always changes for the subjective viewer.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Our books are written in 469, of course you can't understand them.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Wait right there. I will eat you after writing down what I found out.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Ugliness incarnated. Only one eye! Imagine that! How horrible!
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Yes, yes, I'll kill you soon enough, now let me continue my investigations about you.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: These fools and their superstitious life cult don't understand anything of importance.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Only inferior species need weapons.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: You pitiful two-eyed creatures. In our eyes, you look weird. It is pathetic how much you depend on hands and legs. Since we bonelords have more eyes than any creature in the world, it is obvious that you can determine the value of a species by the number of its eyes.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: They will mourn the day they abandoned us.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Good tools to work with ... After their death, that is.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Our language is beyond comprehension by your lesser beings. It heavily relies on mathemagic. Your brain is not suited for the mathemagical processing necessary to understand our language.To decipher even our most basic texts, it would need a genius that can calculate numbers within seconds in his brain.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Their mages are so close to the truth. Closer then they know and closer then it's good for them.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: I am 486486 and NOT 'Blinky' as some people called me ... before they died.
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
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Noisy pests.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: It's 1, not 'Tibia', silly.
Player: fascinating / job
A Wrinkled Bonelord: I'm the great librarian of this library of a once great city.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: So much knowledge was lost in the great wars when we had to retreat to hidden places beneath the surface ...
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Most of our data storages are lost and so are the means to read or recreate some of them ...
A Wrinkled Bonelord: We had to use the primitive storage form of books to recreate some of the lost knowledge. In the past, we used far more advanced forms of storage ...
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Such as bound spirits but also means your puny brain would never be able to comprehend.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: The world is full of inferior species. Once, our race ruled the whole world, but then the gods destroyed our empire ...
A Wrinkled Bonelord: But our race is proficient in the return from death. One day we will rise again, that's for sure!
A Wrinkled Bonelord: This city is nothing but a pale shadow compared to the cities of the past. Our race was forced to retreat to such insignificant underground outposts after the wars.
A Wrinkled Bonelord: Our race has fought many wars in the past and has won most of them. Sometimes, though, it takes only one loss to bring a race down ...
A Wrinkled Bonelord: All the more if the gods you are fighting for, turn out to be traitors.