Gaster sat in an overstuffed red armchair, a glass of red wine in one metal hand. He had gone to a metalworker, and gotten the bulky golem body reshaped into something resembling his old body. In front of him, a massive fireplace reared high above him, made of black marble. An oil painting hung over the fireplace. In it was a gaunt man, cheeks hollow, with deep set eyes that were dark and suspicious, boring into all who looked at the painting. His limbs were far too long, and you could see his ribs through his suit. Lank black hair was slicked back against his head, almost tearing the paper thin skin, and an eerie smile spread across his face, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth. Beneath the grotesque painting, on the old gilded frame, was a brass plaque:
"Lord Von Gaster, the Bone King."
He begins talking to himself, seeming to all the world like a senile old fool.
"You know, it wasn't just the Helvunes who hated me. Even the townsfolk hated me. Necromancy and anything to do with death was hated and persecuted. I was isolated in my manor, with nobody for company but my rotting servants, as no woman would look at me. Loneliness does things to the mind... My heart began to shrivel and blacken... I was soon a loveless husk, hellbent on teaching all who shunned me that there are some people you just don't anger."
While he monologued, down at the fort, something very strange was occuring. The guards would double over from laughter, and then quite literally die from laughing so hard, they forgot to breathe. As each pair of guards dropped, a man with dirty green hair, and odd makeup, wearing a dark purple waist coat, tricorne, a green and purple shirt, and purple pants and boots would advance until he got the the fort wall. He jumped into the sea, and tossed a bomb behind him. As he hit the water, the fort blew up in a cloud of green smoke. When the fort blew, and purple and green flag galleon with a grinning skull for a figurehead sailed into the bay, picking up the strange man and then sailing back into the night.