The first sparks of intelligence flared to life in Mortimer’s head. Well, flared may be a bit of a strong word. Mortimer’s head felt like it was in a in a fog. In a dark cave. In space. His memories were dulled, faded, and held together by the barest of consciousness. But he remembered his name. He remembered having been alive at some point. And he remembered that he knew the guy he was chewing on.
Wait, chewing on? Mortimer realized, in his moment of epiphany, he picked up his friend’s head and was chewing on the soft squishy inside. Mortimer knew that wasn’t the right word, but it was so tasty, he did not care.
What he did care about was his Undead Regeneration snapping his arm back into place, restoring it to mostly working condition. His bones still felt like gravel and made an unnerving grinding noise as he waved his arm.
An iota of focus stayed with his eyes as he let his Undead Perception released, and Mortimer’s thoughts dimmed further. No other living around him for now. His gnawing hunger returned as the regeneration slowed, his body still filled with large gashes from the sword. Mortimer grabbed the corpse by the arm and pulled, dragging it behind him. He was by no means fast, but he walked with a little more purpose and direction than before. At least until he caught his dragging steps on his previous leg, still lying where it fell from the fluffy’s attack on him.
Landing in a heap, his left arm now tearing a hole through the flesh of his rotting shoulder, and the adventure’s corpse and the fluffy’s corpse wrapped around each other. With a low groan and a sickening snapping noise, Mortimer pulled hard and ripped the arm off the adventurer. Eating on it like a drumstick, Mortimer felt the regeneration kick back in, his shoulder sliding back into place, and the gaping wounds in his side stitching themselves back together.
Undead Regeneration has restored you to Maximum Health. Warning, repeated use of Undead Regeneration will be able to restore less as your body breaks down. Additional sources of healing may be required.
Mortimer could not understand what the box was saying, but a memory crawled out of the void in his thoughts and he remembered how to make the blue box disappear. With a flick of his wrist, and the gods-awful grinding noise of his bones, he cleared the warning from his vision. He felt so clever. In a moment of celebration, he raised his arms into the air like a praying mantis and did a thrilling dance number across his little dark room.
Lords, how I wish I could unsee that. But since that technically counts as a dexterous action…
DEX+
Mortimer still did not have the foggiest notion what that blue box was saying, but a nagging feeling in the back of his barely function brain told him that he did not like that stupid box. On the plus side though, he watched as some of his damaged and rotting limbs suddenly knitted themselves back together, healing a little better and allowing him a little bit easier of a time moving around. He felt more in control of his limbs. He walked a little more easily around his room, his steps upgrading from a slow shuffle, to a graceless, ungainly step.
With a small gem of happiness in his rancid chest, he strolled back into the hallway. Moving around feels so much better now! He felt like he was practically flying down the straights and veering around even the tightest corners. The real truth, however, was he could be outpaced by a moderately motivated tortoise. No one accused zombies of being particularly fast. Their real secret is their endless stamina, which Mortimer thoroughly enjoyed as he walked for hours through corridor after corridor. With no real purpose, objective, or even a sense of direction to speak of, Mortimer became completely and utterly lost.
Eventually, the corridors opened into a room. This was much larger than any room Mortimer’s broken brain could ever remember being in. Much brighter too. Too bright in fact. Mortimer shielded his eyes as they were slow to adjust to the higher light levels in the room. It was while his face was covered that they started. The screams, the terrible screams.
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They were only supposed to be down here for a day or two. By Janette’s count, that was a week ago. But still, the rumors that this dungeon had a secret area, one filled with monsters and treasure far beyond what this beginner level should be able to manage drove them deeper into its maze-like halls. They were by no means great and powerful adventurers, being only a couple levels beyond what this dungeon considered normal, but if the rumors were true, they would find a trove of treasure and experience many levels beyond what they would normally be able to gain.
Janette looked around at her sleeping party. Why the caster had to take a turn at watch was beyond her. Didn’t they know she needed at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep to restore herself. She picked up her pocket mirror and looked at her increasingly haggard reflection.
“Not to mention the other 2 hours or so I need to keep up my appearance,” she mumbled aloud. She pulled at the bags under her eyes, thinking about how many days at the spa in Ofcaul she would need to get herself to her best place again. Adventuring barely seemed worth it at times. The treasure was nice, but the long hours, crappy food, and constant chance of getting killed was a bit much at times. Janette sighed heavily, and recast the spells needed to keep the flames going strong, warm and bright. That was the last of her useful spells until she got a long rest.
Janette sat back down near the flames and cracked open her spellbook. According to her teachers, the next major step in growth would be to create a new spell. Or least uncover a lost one. She got out her writing supplies and started doodling magical circles in the corner of one of the blank pages. She had no way to really know where to start, so she let her mind wander. That was where the greatest magical inspirations could be found, according to her teachers. Janette suppressed a chuckle at the memories of her teachers with their ridiculous beards and insistence on conical hats.
She closed her book and checked the hourglasses. Another hour to go before she could wake up her comrade. She looked around the room as the flames cast dancing shadows along the walls. That’s when she saw it. The walking corpse of a humanoid walking into the room, its rotting flesh hanging loosely in places, blood caked around its mouth where it feasted on the living, and a half- eaten arm being dragged behind them. An arm wrapped in a very familiar sleeve. No one had seen Luxe in days. This thing must have eaten him. A wave of dread and panic filled her up from the depths of her soul and poured out of her lungs and mouth as she screamed.
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Mortimer’s eyes focused, sensing the four living beings in the room. The noisy one was by herself, but the other three were quickly getting up. The echoing screams filling the room with a dozen voices all annoyingly loud and shrill. Mortimer didn’t like all this noise. He missed the quiet of his dark room. And he was hungry. The arm lost its taste hours ago, but he forgot to drop it. He looked down at the arm, and at the noisy one, and the ones getting up. Then he threw it. But do you know what happens when someone with no intelligence to speak up tries to aim, and someone with no dexterity tries to throw?
Jack shit is what happens. The arm sailed through the air, caught on a decorative boar’s head mounted on the wall and knocked it down. That’s when the miracle happened, because that is the only thing that can describe the deus ex machina level of bullshit. The head came loose from the wall and fell, plunging its tusks into the fighter’s back and all but killing him, leaving him pinned to the floor. The blood splatter from the fighter’s brand new piercings splashed on the cleric’s face in the middle of his holy chant, causing him to gag and the spelt to backfire and blast the rogue as he pulled out his weapons, knocking him out cold.
There is no way that should be possible. I’d call haxx but you’re too stupid for anything like that. Oh shit, I forgot to adjust your luck. I can’t do anything about it now though. Congrats on the freebie. I guess it’s true that it is better to be lucky than smart.
Special Action-Killed two enemies with a lucky shot. Bonus xp awarded. Luck stat unlocked.
You gained a level. You are now a level 3 Zombie.
STR+
CON+
STR+
You have gained the option to choose what kind of Zombie you are. Warning, you are no longer considered beginner level. System protection against death rescinded. Zombie immunities to starvation and fatigue active.