Burning flames cast a warm glow across the room, bathing the patrons of the frontier inn in light. Decorating the walls were the mounted heads of giant insects of several different species. 'Some of those have to be fake...'.

  Before he could continue to think on the validity of the pieces, Clark returned his attention to the clerk returning with their room keys. Theirs, as Clark was accompanied by a large man covered head to toe in steel armor. Why such a thrifty company would so lavishly equip him like that, Clark didn't have a clue. It certainly gave him an aura of danger and reliability, at least.

  The armor wasn't just simple, either, as it was covered in depictions of bones and skulls, with the highlight being a skull insignia on the center breastplate. The helmet was a great helm with slim slits for vision. For a weapon, he carried a simple longsword at his waist, remarkably unadorned compared to the armor.

  The man in question, wasn't actually a man. His name was Sticks, and he was a skeleton warrior raised to be both Clark's bodyguard and to be a trial sample for potential clients. 'I suppose they would pull out all the stops on what'll be an introduction to their services', Clark surmised.

  The skeleton for his part, showing more humanity than Clark thought a simple undead should, tilted his head at him. 'Arthur might have been being humble when he said he's just a mere skeleton warrior'.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Clark lead the way to their room, key in hand. He was tired, the journey from Harl to this frontier town of New Valen had been long and arduous. Being the capital, Harl sat at the very center of the Kingdom of Reichest, so to reach a frontier town took several months. Luckily, while tiring, the journey was largely uneventful.

  'Still', Clark thought, 'would've liked to see Stick's in action. I'd like to know what he's capable of, even if Mr. Horn said he'll be more than enough for any threat.' While the aura the undead gave could be felt by even him, Clark still didn't feel confident until he saw his guardian in action. Though, being where they were, he suspected it wouldn't take long.

  That's because they were next to the frontier, though the name no longer meant what it should, as there was no more expansion past it's length. Beyond this town, and others that dotted the border, were endless wastes where monstrous creatures lived. In this area, as evidenced by the mounted heads downstairs, giant bugs were especially numerous. Yet despite the inhospitable environment, the value of the resources that could be gained were immense, leading to these frontier towns as people and industry came to be as close to this veritable goldmine as possible.

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  And that was exactly why Clark was here, to offer the service of the already dead in a place where death was a common job hazard. Coupled with the grim setting, the concentration of greed, and the semi-isolated nature of the town, even Clark could see the possibility for the company to start here. 'Just the fact that the undead don't fear death is a selling point, there must be loads of merchants who wish they could send men to certain doom just to get some of the more peculiar items of the wastes', thought Clark.

  Finally in their room, door closed and packs stowed, Clark started to discuss the plan. Or, well, monologue, considering the other guy couldn't talk. Being a skeleton and all. 'Least it means I always get the last word' Clark mused with a smile.

  "First, we'll gather information around town on how people feel about the undead. Anything less than outright hostility, and we'll have a chance." Sticks, with his helmet now off revealing his bare skull, laid down on his bed. 'Does he even get anything from laying down,' Clark pondered. A quick go on motion from Sticks reminded Clark to continue, as well as reminding him that he's not talking to himself.

  Clearing his throat, Clark began again. "If we pass that first hurdle, then we can start to advertise. While we're gathering information on the attitudes of the locals, we can find out who's in need of expendable workers," Clark was certain he felt a sharp look from the empty sockets the skeleton called eyes when he said the word expendable, "that...we can try to get in contact with. That shouldn't be hard, considering there's always someone wanting a life risked for their own reward."

  "Finally, once we have clients signing the contracts, we just wait here until the first shipment of undead arrive." A neat feature of the contracts is that they were connected to the company headquarters, the old yet clean building Clark had his interview in. Once signed, the requested undead would be loaded into covered wagons and brought to New Valen, where it was up to Clark to organize them to their respective clients. Clark also remembered he can only contract out lower tier undead, due to the financial strains the burgeoning company was under.

  "And that's it. Easy." Clark smiled, now finished going over the plan, more for himself than his dead companion.