Today I'm going to tell you something that happened 40 years ago, when I was just a youngster like you.
Back then I was not the bald old man you see in front of you, instead I was a young man whose face had just started growing hair and I had just started learning the ropes from my old man on how to manage the village.
That day was early in the morning, we had just had breakfast and were starting to head to our own jobs when the commotion started. Suddenly all birds flew out of the mountain and the animals started making noise scared. We didn't have time to figure out what was happening as a few seconds later the mountain trembled and many houses started crumbling to the ground.
In the end, many animals escaped, some people got hurt but, fortunately, no one died.
My father, who was the village chief at that time, called all the hunters and young men and asked for volunteers to scout the mountains. A lot of people agreed to help, so we were divided in groups of 5, each with a hunter leading us. In my case it was old Tom, the great-great-grandfather of our Jack here.
As we climbed the mountains, the temperature started dropping, which was quite unnatural considering we were in the middle of Summer. Two hours later, we started wondering if we should head back and bring some coats instead of proceeding, it was then that old Tom experienced sight sighted a hidden cave which was exhaling white fog.
We decided to go inside take a look, and as we advanced inside the cave, we came across a large hall full of odd sculptures and pillars. We slowly, step by step, approached the hall, and it was then that we saw... the skeletons were not lying dead, but patrolling that large hall, they were undead.
Old Tom said that this was enough for scouting, there was no need to risk our lives any further and each of those skeletons were stronger than we were, so we all agreed to return.
As we returned to the village, we reported our finds and received praise for our actions. My father dismissed us and said he would head to the city and ask for help. But there was a problem, we had no money to hire adventurers.
Next morning, my father drove his wagon, bringing all pelts we had accumulated to sell in the city.
I wanted to go with him, but he didn't allow me to follow.
Three days later, my father came back, bringing with him an old monk.
As I saw the old fart I thought my father had gone crazy. Luckily that thought stayed inside my mind and I had the minimum discipline to not speak out.
On that same day, old Tom and the monk went back to the skeleton cave. I couldn't hold myself back and followed them with my two brothers.
As we entered the cave, old Tom, who had noticed us long time ago, called us out.
He said that he understood us youngsters and would let this slip, but we had to stay with him.
Soon we reached the large hall, the monk signed us to wait and advanced alone.
It was then that I saw the most bizarre fight I ever saw, an old man who looked 90 years old moving so fast it was hard to follow with the eyes. He jump kicked one skeleton, punched the other, threw the third on the fourth. Seeing the scene, we were so surprised that we couldn't even breath. Soon the last skeleton was defeated and we started breathing again.
We tried approaching him, but he said it was not over, then he went to the sanctuary and did some special sealing magic. After that he closed his eyes for a few seconds then moved to another cave passage. He took out a dozen sealing papers and used magic to manipulate them in the air. The seals started to rotate in a circle and then a huge rock was summoned and blocked the entrance of the tunnel.
As he finished, he was looking even older than before, he was extremely exhausted. Tom lend his shoulder to the old monk and helped him walk out of the cave. As we exited, we sat around waiting for him to regain his breath. He took his time to explain that the tunnel he sealed should lead to a dungeon. He explained that we should explain the situation to the noble who owned this village, so he can hire some adventurers. He also said that the seal should hold for a long time, so there was no need to despair.
Later in the village, my father invited him to a feast to commemorate his feat but the monk refused. The monk repeated what he told us and gave us farewell. Father tried to offer a ride to the city but when he noticed the monk had already vanished.
Following the monk's advice, my father wrote a letter to the feudal lord. The first letter was ignored, so was the second, and finally on the third letter we got and answer:
"Right now I got no money and since it's already sealed, it's not urgent. Write me again if the seal is broken and I will see what can be done."
For the next days we lived in fear, having nightmares about the day the dungeon monsters broke out. But time can make us forget anything and as time progressed we slowly forgot the fear and even the danger.
And that's why it's important for me to pass this story to you youngsters, as one day the seal may be broken and then you are the ones who will have to act.
"Did your father punish you for following the monk?"
Hmm, I will leave that story for another day, now head back home, its time for you to sleep.
"""""Eh!!??"""""