I have encountered a dilemma. This pit is very steep. Practically 90 degrees in fact. Don’t get me wrong, it’s incredible craftsmanship, but if it were just a schosch less incredible, I would be able to leave and get on with my undeath.

I have fallen several times, attempting to get out. Each time I made it a little farther, but the thing is, the walls are pretty loose, being dirt, but also very hard, being magically reinforced. So while it crumbles like my bones when I hit the ground at thirty miles per hour, it also takes a hell of a lot of force in order to penetrate and climb.

Thus, I have devised a plan. I am going to use some of the femurs that are around like climbing picks, and drag my way up the wall. As a skeleton, I weigh like, 20 lbs. I can hold myself up for about as long as I want to, really, so all it’s going to take is a bit of patience and a few femurs.

I gaze around my de facto home. There’s not much in the way of anything but bones, which is just about perfect for my needs. I pick up a few, feel them a bit, and toss them aside when they aren’t sharp or are too fractured. Then. Like the god of femurs himself has descended upon mine head. He hath gifted me the most pristine pair of femurs, next to a positively ravaged ribcage and skull. Poor guy.

Ah well. All that means is he won’t be needing these bones anymore. I pick them up and make my way over to the wall of the pit. New problem: they aren’t sharp. I take the bones and begin to grind them on the floor. They make a pretty nasty screeching sound, like nails on a chalkboard. It’s odd how similar those two sounds can be.

After a solid twenty minutes on each bone, I’ve got them in respectable shape to be used as climbing tools. I begin to pour magic into them in order to harden them as I stab them into the dirt. It crunches, and gives way to the point of the bone. I begin to ascend.

So here I am, forty feet up a wall, holding on to two femurs. I’ve been here for a little while now, because I’ve discovered that using the entirety of your mana pool to reinforce some bones is not effective, and I’m now swaying dizzily while attempting to hang on.

I’ve also discovered that I’m held together by magic. In between each of my bones a little strand of magic holds them together, which also appears to be how my body stores mana. Skeleton anatomy is weird.

I dig myself little holes in which to put my hands and feet, and wait for my mana to recharge. Slowly but surely, it does just that. Night falls and onwards I climb. The cycle of using and recharging my mana repeats, getting longer each time. Finally, I reach the top. Grasping the ledge of the pit, I hoist myself onto the grass.

Now I’m really free. Actually. I can do whatever I want, now. No societal bonds hold me, no physical needs haunt me, I’m well and truly free. Doing a quick swivel around myself, I’m in a graveyard. All the better to get skeletons with, I suppose. Off in the distance is a forest, with dense foliage and probably some squirrels as well. That’s my target.

Off we go, then.