The Dungeons & Dragons skeleton has long been a low-level foe for novice adventurers. With its archery and lawful evil alignment, it hints at a life of discipline. But in medieval lore, its roots are considerably more chaotic.
It's perhaps not surprising that D&D incorporates a variety of mythological approaches to the living dead into its diverse supernatural ecosystem. The skeleton, itself associated with the grim reaper, is one of the more recognizable, but its origins are more complex than a mindless monster. Indeed, the skeleton was originally positioned as a scathing attack on inequality in medieval times.
Danse Macabre
The skeleton have been a metaphor for death going back to medieval woodcuts. Their origins harken back to the Danse Macabre:
If the skeletons of old were more interested in mocking the living and reminding them of the fragility of their positions in life, things would take a darker turn with The Triumph of Death.
The Triumph of Death
The 1446 fresco in Palermo shows death as an archer (shades of the D&D skeleton) killing the living of all social levels, but it's The Triumph of Death in Madrid in 1562 turns things truly apocalyptic. This Triumph of Death portrays the mass slaughter of the living by an army of the dead:
And thus we come to our army of blade-wielding killers that skeletons are known for. But there's a more recent portrayal that likely cemented the skeleton as a robot-like adversary.
Ray Harryhausen's Skeletons
The skeletons best known in modern fantasy can be attributed to the stop-motion magic of special effects artist Ray Harryhausen, who featured seven armed skeletons as the "children of Hydra's teeth" in Jason and the Argonauts:
Christian Lindke on Topless Robot says it best:
Although there's a one-on-one battle in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Jason and the Argonauts cemented fighting skeletons in kids' imaginations everywhere. And judging by their similarities to D&D skeletons, that included Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson.
It's perhaps not surprising that D&D incorporates a variety of mythological approaches to the living dead into its diverse supernatural ecosystem. The skeleton, itself associated with the grim reaper, is one of the more recognizable, but its origins are more complex than a mindless monster. Indeed, the skeleton was originally positioned as a scathing attack on inequality in medieval times.
Danse Macabre
The skeleton have been a metaphor for death going back to medieval woodcuts. Their origins harken back to the Danse Macabre:
The Danse Macabre consists of the dead or a personification of death summoning representatives from all walks of life to dance along to the grave, typically with a pope, emperor, king, child, and laborer. It was produced as memento mori, to remind people of the fragility of their lives and how vain were the glories of earthly life. Its origins are postulated from illustrated sermon texts; the earliest recorded visual scheme was a now-lost mural at Holy Innocents' Cemetery in Paris dating from 1424 to 1425.
If the skeletons of old were more interested in mocking the living and reminding them of the fragility of their positions in life, things would take a darker turn with The Triumph of Death.
The Triumph of Death
The 1446 fresco in Palermo shows death as an archer (shades of the D&D skeleton) killing the living of all social levels, but it's The Triumph of Death in Madrid in 1562 turns things truly apocalyptic. This Triumph of Death portrays the mass slaughter of the living by an army of the dead:
The painting shows a panorama of an army of skeletons wreaking havoc across a blackened, desolate landscape. Fires burn in the distance, and the sea is littered with shipwrecks. A few leafless trees stud hills otherwise bare of vegetation; fish lie rotting on the shores of a corpse-choked pond. Art historian James Snyder emphasizes the "scorched, barren earth, devoid of any life as far as the eye can see." In this setting, legions of skeletons advance on the living, who either flee in terror or try in vain to fight back. In the foreground, skeletons haul a wagon full of skulls; in the upper left corner, others ring the bell that signifies the death knell of the world. People are herded into a coffin-shaped trap decorated with crosses, while a skeleton on horseback kills people with a scythe. The painting depicts people of different social backgrounds – from peasants and soldiers to nobles as well as a king and a cardinal – being taken by death indiscriminately.
And thus we come to our army of blade-wielding killers that skeletons are known for. But there's a more recent portrayal that likely cemented the skeleton as a robot-like adversary.
Ray Harryhausen's Skeletons
The skeletons best known in modern fantasy can be attributed to the stop-motion magic of special effects artist Ray Harryhausen, who featured seven armed skeletons as the "children of Hydra's teeth" in Jason and the Argonauts:
In the latter film, 7 skeletons are spawned from the teeth of the slain Hydra by King Aeëtes of Colchis, as revenge for Jason and his men stealing the Golden Fleece. After Jason uses the Fleece to heal a wounded Medea on top of a cliff, Argos takes Medea back to the Argo as Jason and two of his toughest men fight all 7 skeletons that arise from the ground; five are immediately spawned with swords and shields and another two are carrying spears. After Castor and Phalerus are slain in battle, Jason realizes that the only way of defeating his undead foes is to jump into the sea, where the skeletons "drown" and Jason and his crew return with Medea to Thessaly.
Christian Lindke on Topless Robot says it best:
They are the skeletons to beat all skeletons, and they are what will help us decide whether Jason and the Argonauts or The 7th Voyage of Sinbad is the most D&D movie of all time. Weapon-wielding skeletons aren’t a commonplace feature in a lot of fantasy stories, and according to the recent Osprey book on the Argonautica the classical version of the Children of the Hydra is as “mud men” that are comprised of actual flesh and blood. This leads one to believe that the skeletons of D&D are Harryhausen Skeletons. Another dead giveaway regarding the origins of the D&D Skeleton is the fact that in AD&D, Skeletons only take half-damage from bladed weapons. Only blunt weapons do full damage. Watch these two sword fights and tell me that Gygax and Arneson weren’t thinking about these fights when they made that rule.
Although there's a one-on-one battle in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Jason and the Argonauts cemented fighting skeletons in kids' imaginations everywhere. And judging by their similarities to D&D skeletons, that included Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson.
