In the journey towards a still unknown destination, the Skeleton had remained, for the lack of a better word, oddly calm, the scraping of his fingertips being the only sign of steadily rising anger. With each wave of relaxing energy affecting the skeleton less and less, it was only a matter of time before he snapped again. And the descent to what seemed to be a moist, damp dungeon most certainly did not serve to delay his impending wrath. Oh, how the Skeleton hated dungeons. Filled with ghouls and all sorts of creepy crawlies that fling themselves at newcomers, not to mention serving as a potential hub for more mages and their temporo-spatial shitery.

 As they descended further into the complex, the peculiar dancing midget with it's jumblies wiggling about made the troublesome ossuary glad he could no longer smell, and, well, furious as well. Crudely shaking his hand at the goblin, whatever coil of indifference had wrapped itself around him violently snapped, as he returned to his usual ways. [b]"WHAT THE FLYING FUCK IS THIS? WHY'S IT'S DICK HANGING OUT? WHAT THE FUCK IS IT-"[/b]

 With the goblin getting murdered and Stride violently coming back to un-life, the skeleton's rage-filled voice gained a tad of confusion as well. He certainly did not expect some corpse they were carrying to spring up and reattach its' head, all while screaming something about some Lady-Death. He had signed up for a book retrieval, not high-powered wizard fuckery. Quickly pacing towards the newly reanimated elf, he attempted to grab it by its' shoulders and violently shake it, all while demanding an explanation for what just happened.

 [b]"OKAY, YOU HEADFUCKED PIECE OF GARBAGE. YOU'RE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OR I'M GOING TO SHOVE YOUR LOOSE-HANGING NOGGIN WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE."[/b]