A man stood before an old building, it's age visible in the cracks covering it's stone surface. At it's front, heavy set wooden doors sat in an arched entryway. With a visible breath, and a sudden smile, the man entered the building.
"Hello? I'm here about the job offer." With confident steps the man entered into the lobby, furnished with clean yet aged chairs, as aged as the building itself. Behind the front desk sat a young woman, attractive but not gorgeous, and after taking notice of the man she waved him forward.
"Hello sir, and welcome to The Bonesmen, if you're here about an interview I ask that you take a seat while I inform Mr. Horn." With her greeting finished, the woman disappeared through a door behind her, leaving the man by himself with the ancient furniture. Even the sheets of paper on the girl's desk showed signs of age.
With a sigh, the smile he held when he entered slipping from his face, the man settled down to wait.
He was young, looking at the cusp of twenty years, with a body that showed he never went hungry but lacked the toned muscles of someone who spent their life doing manual labor. His hair was parted and combed, light brown, and he sported a clean shaven face. His clothes were form fitting, tailored from a comfortable material, but relatively inexpensive for those with the means.
His name was Clark, and he was here about a job.
Ever since hearing about the Bonesmen, the newly created mercenary company that wasn't looking for fighters, but salesmen, his interest was piqued. The third and youngest son of a merchant family, he recieved a moderate education, though his position in the family meant he would need to venture on his own if he wanted to make something for himself. And, while he knew his family would welcome him to join them in running the family business, he had ambitions of success that he wouldn't be able to achieve splitting the profits three ways. And so here he was, in the lobby of a building that looked to be older than even his own family's company, in search of employment that promised to be an interesting experience as well as profitable.
The profit, of course, came from joining a new company at it's birth. Mercenary companies especially were highly profitable due to their risks, but since they were looking for salesmen, Clark felt secure about working for them, since he wouldn't be expected to fight but to sell. And mercenary companies had as much need of good negotiators as any merchant company, for gruff men could only sell themselves so well without the oiled tongue of someone with a way with words.
The smile he lost returned, as he imagined his future, speaking with men of status and securing contracts, the money to be made at selling the lives of men in search of wealth. The fact it wasn't his own life being sold made it all the much better in his mind.
Before long the woman returned, the squeek of the door on it's hinge alerting Clark to her presence. "Mr. Horn will see you now."
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If the building and furniture were old, the man seated behind the gnarled desk was positively ancient. Dressed in black robes, with a balding head and discoloured skin, and eyes that looked blind if not for the intensity in them. Everything about the man screamed necromancer, aside from the energetic grin on his face as he stood up and stuck a hand out to Clark.
"Greetings, Mr. Clark. I am Arthur Horn, one of the founding members of The Bonesmen." The hand gripped Clark like a vise, though the energy put behind the motions made it seem more like over-enthusiasm than anything malicious. "Please, have a seat, have a seat."
As soon as the handshake was over, Arthur was back in his own seat, wildly gesturing for Clark to take his own. As Clark settled into the chair, Arthur began to pull out several sheets of paper.
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"Alright Mr. Clark, I'm going to ask you some questions to start this off. First off, how did you hear about the position?" With an nod towards Clark, who began answering the questions one after the other, the interview was underway. Each question was fairly standard, such as if Clark knew what the position entailed, what the company did, so on and so forth. Truly, the interview was going well in Clark's mind.
"Now, Mr. Clark, I have one final question. What is your opinion on the undead?" Arthur's gaze settled on Clark with far more intensity than he had throughout the whole process, thoroughly reminding Clark that the affable old man was an immensely strong magician. As for the question, while surprising, Clark wasn't unprepared. The rumors about the company weren't just about the position, but about the reason they weren't hiring warriors.
Recently, in the Kingdom of Reichest, after centuries of being illegal, necromancy had been decriminalized. The sudden change occurred following the ascension of the new king, following the death of the old one. The new king, according to the rumors, was said to be a visionary and sought to foster new ideas in his kingdom. According to the priests and elderly, he was a fool inviting disaster on the kingdom. Regardless, his will was executed and the dread art of necromancy was allowed to be publicly practiced. And if Clark's intuition was right, and the fashion sense of the man before him was any indicator, he sat before one of those necromancers who had practiced their art in the shadows.
Taking a moment to think over his answer carefully, Clark mulled over what to say, before finally committing to a line of thought. "I don't have enough knowledge on them to say for sure....but I don't have a particular problem with them." Clark watched the necromancer with concern in his mind, hoping he answered right. And before long, with a smile that reached his eyes, Arthur settled his worries.
"I'm glad you were honest with me Mr. Clark, to tell me about your ignorance. It's good to acknowledge when one is lacking." The old man let out a quick hearty laugh, at odds with his aged body. Clark chalked it up as a benefit of knowing magic related to death. "I should know, having lived as long as I have. Only idiots act before they learn. As for the reason for the question, and as I'm sure you have some inkling on, our company will be employing the undead. For the most part they will be the mindless variety, especially early on for us as the more intelligent kind are rather expensive. Regardless, they will surely be a hit!" Excitement was palpable in Arthur's voice as began to talk about the benefits of using undead. "They don't tire, they don't complain, they run no risk of selling out the client, and they never retire. In all ways, they are the best for the job."
Clark felt the man might have some bias, but for the most part he could agree. Each point the man made was a definite plus, with some additional benefits going unmentioned such as the lack of emotion and not having to eat. Still, he had some questions about them, which Arthur asked about the very next moment.
"How does it work?" Clark asked, hoping the necromancer knew what he was asking. The man's nod and the paper he handed to Clark showed he had.
"It's all about the contract, Mr. Clark, it's all about that piece of paper." Clark gave the sheet a quick read.
For the most part it had blanks sections for the types of undead, their number, and the duration of the contract as well as the fee. What was concrete were such things as the company not being liable for any damages that happen if the client uses someone with a missing limb, especially since there was a clause right before detailing how to go about re-attaching them, forgetting to wear ear plugs when a banshee shrieks, and having the undead collapse because you don't have the mana to feed them. The last one dealt with a optional choice of receiving a mana crystal that'd the undead would draw power from, though that mainly concerned the lower tier undead whose power requirements were neglible, as stronger undead provided their own power.
Arthur then handed Clark another contract, this one he explained being the one Clark would be under while he worked for the company. It detailed similar things to the previous, though it was about the commissions Clark would receive, as well as his own personal undead. That last part made him a bit nervous, but he waved away his concern since it only made sense for a merchant to travel with his wares.
Over all, the contract was surprisingly acceptable. Handing the paper back over to Arthur, the interview came to a close. Satisfied with it, and hoping to get the job, it came as a surprise when Arthur told him he was hired right then and there, and that he already had an assignment ready for him.