Bedelev is a quiet middle-sized city which is the last stop before the capital of Veta on the road to the harbour towns and cities in the north-western part of the continent. A famous city for its hearty mead and fantastic meat from their livestock.

Surrounding the city for almost six kilometres on all sides are plentiful and abundant farms or pastures. The walls were lightly manned at the height of the day, with visibility in all directions so clear there was only need for a lightly manned guard after all.

On the northern road, the guards at the gates of the high stone walls stared after a figure entering the city. A tattered looking man with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a hood of light leather over his head. The guards were on guard as they noticed the long- and short swords at the man’s hip and the furs around his shoulders along with the furs running down his thighs made him look barbaric to the guards.

If it wasn’t for the clearly well-made leather breastplate covering his upper body then they might have done something about it. The guards chalked it up to the man being of high standing that had fallen on hard times during a journey home or something of the like.

The man continued to walk with an almost depressed gait into the city, looking slowly around himself as he walked down the market street. With his long fingers, he gripped a kiwi-like fruit he had paid for at one of the market stalls. The fruit seller noting the almost hollow look in the man’s eyes before having to take a double-take at the shape of the man’s pupils.

The sellers and others around the man grew even more surprised as he took the hood off, showing his long ears and the heavy bags under his eyes.

Slowly the man made his way out of the marketplace and asked around for a good inn to stay at. His questions and wandering lead him to the doors of The Likeable Owl inn. The serving girl halting a little in her cheerful greeting as she caught the man’s hollow gaze. Taking a seat in the corner the man sat down after ordering two flagons of mead and a meal.

The others in the tavern part of the inn feeling a little unnerved by the man. He wasn’t ugly or overly handsome, he had a sort of rugged charm to him. However, the hollowness in his gaze and the somehow aura of unnaturalness around the man, made some primal part of the others recoil.

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I stared at the food that was put in front of me. What had happened?! I had decided to go ahead and do the ‘right thing’ or something but then it happened. When that paladin had mentioned Aona it was like something had snapped in me. I had sort of come too when I had left a charnel pit in my wake after indiscriminately slaughtering the people.

Was this the corruption Chernabog had mentioned? Or had my death at Aona’s hand been so traumatizing that I had developed a split personality? I had pondered this for the past two day’s now.

I had ignored my new skeletons and skills, heck even my notifications or anything else in fact! I had only eaten and drunk enough to get by while stewing in my thoughts the entire way. I was lucky Svadilfari and Garmur were so darn lifelike in their personalities and smarts, otherwise, I had just ridden straight into this town with a pack of skeletons at my side.

It had taken Svadilfara to buck me off his back to snap me out of it long enough to get my thoughts into some semblance of order and enter the town.

But now? I was sitting here and staring at the plate with a bit of meat with potatoes and some greens. Yeah, it seems like potatoes and cabbage are a universal truth of some sort.

I smiled only a little at that internal joke but then just went to flatly eat my meal. It didn’t even taste like anything, or perhaps I’m just so depressed I don’t realize the flavour?

I came to once more when I was almost halfway through the second flagon of mead. I had to get over this! If my actions were the result of psychosis brought on by some corruption or trauma from my death I had to conquer it! Well. Either that or get cured of it.

Then again I had been thinking of going to the north and setting myself up as some sort of Lich-king. I grimaced a little at that thought. If I was going to make an empire of the dead or something like that Arthas guy I’d most likely be responsible for much, much worse atrocities than what I had done that first night out of the Deepwoods.

I mean aren’t I the villain here?! My aim is the literal murder of a goddess and possible murder of a queen if Amelia managed to get rid of her brother.

I was the bad guy but that night still left a pit in my stomach. I mean I’ll most likely murder hundreds if not thousands on my path to vengeance and my own twisted sense of justice to be fulfilled. I sighed and lowered my head, running my fingers through my hair. If my plans were to be fulfilled I’d have an army of undead at my back and of course, those corpses have to come from somewhere.

I can’t just go ahead and slaughter several thousand beasts to make up an army. It would be ridiculous after all.

As I finished the last flagon I sighed out loud and hummed in the hall of the mountain king to myself. I didn’t know why I had grown so incredibly fond of this song. I always stopped whistling or humming the tune before the crescendo of the song though. When it magnifies it’s rhythm and volume when the main character in the play supposedly begins to run away after being discovered.

I peered into my empty mug and I could swear I saw something at the bottom of the flagon. It reminded me of a sort of featureless mask I had seen in a cartoon or some such. I didn’t know why it captivated me but I began to realize that I’d need my own sense of honour or a code of some sort, to try and not repeat what I had done.

I can’t become some utter monster or the like after all. Or should I just get rid of my "humanity" or some such?

I waved the flagon towards the bar keep for another and I gave the barmaid a silver for her trouble. She looked at me wide-eyed before nodding happily at me and making her way back. I smiled weakly before I continued to drown my sorrows.

Or at least that was the plan. A pudgy dwarf with a huge beard down to his groin forcefully sat down on the chair opposite me and harrumphed at me. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Not of’ten we see yer sort around de’s parts.” He said in such a thick accent I wasn’t sure he was trying to speak German or Russian, all with a smattering of a Turkish or Texan accent added to it.

I cocked my head a little and stared at the dwarf. My disbelief and utter surprise must have shown on my face as the man seemed to falter just a little bit. Then he chuckled ever so slightly before waving his hand towards me. “I meant noh disrespect, lad. Just want’t see if ye were on d’road t’da south.” He said in his broken accent and I had to replay his words like three times in my head before I understood him better.

I decided to be a little mean to him and spoke a language I was rather certain no one else could speak in this world, Icelandic. I had thought to try German giving his weird accent but I realized I didn’t know really all that much besides the very few German metal songs I had listened to. “Get Ég hjálpað þér? (Can I help you?)” I asked with a raised eyebrow towards him, then took a short sip of my mead.

The man stared at me bug-eyed for a long time, then he spoke something that I could have sworn was Indian mixed with Turkish or something. I simply stared at him with incomprehension as he continued to chatter at me with that harsh language of his. “Já, já, já Ra ra Rasputin. (Yes, Yes, Yes Ra ra Rasputin.)” I said to him in a dead pan tone, I had no idea why I had quoted that old song but still it did have it’s intended effect. He shut up.

“What do you want?” I asked him, almost growling the words. I wasn’t in any mood to deal with his bullshit at the moment. My low mood and realizations of how dark shit was bout to get for me didn’t help the travel weariness I was beginning to feel in my body. And that didn’t help in my patience for this nonsense at all.

The Dwarf almost blustered a little before he cleared his throat and began to speak to me. “Are ye an adventurer per’chance?” He asked and I simply gave him a half nod of a sort.

He seemed to take it as a ‘yeah I guess but I don’t belong to a guild or anything.’ “DAT’S FINE.” He began with a boisterous volume which made me flinch a little and almost reach over the table to shut him up with my claws. Where had that thought come from?! “Soory, soory. I am Bozkurt Magmajaw. I’m sort ov a Merchant.” That last word was so harsh I almost didn’t catch it, he emphasised his ‘t’s and ‘s’s so much it was rather annoying.

I had half a mind of telling him to get a translator so we could get this whole thing over with.

“I need a advenTurer fer a job.” He said with a conspiratorial grin at me. I began to suspect he thought I was someone of ill repute or willing to do such jobs. I scowled at him.

I rose up sharply and looked down at the man. “No.” I said simply as I left the table only to walk into a brute of a man. His chest was almost the size of those wooden water barrels you see in western movies but on its side. He had a large flat tooth poking out the side of his mouth and I realized he must have a bit of ogre blood in him. Some-fucking-how.

“Da boss says you stay and listen.” He said bluntly and I looked from the man to the Dwarf with a raised eyebrow and a ‘seriously’ expression on my face. The Dwarf simply looked at me with a smug smile and nodded at me.

“I don’t have an interest in what you have to say. I’ve got problems of my own.” I said almost growling at the Dwarf before I turned to the big man. “Step aside or I make you.” I said with anger radiating in my tone.

To my surprise and chagrin, the big man didn’t move. His bald head and little ears somehow making me think of the dopey sidekick from those old cartoon’s but the glint in his eye told me he was probably smarter than those idiotic brutes by a rather large margin. “No, sit down now or I make you.” He replied and put his hand on my shoulder.

I sighed loudly and looked down at my mead flagon, it was around two thirds full or so and I took a small swig of it. “Augen Auf (Watch out)” I said in German and tossed the rest of the drink into his face. I then gave him a sharp knee to the groin before I spun around to bring my open palm right into the dwarf’s big nose to break it.

I only got about as far as to turn around before the man stabbed me in the throat with a very thin dagger. The Dwarf looked at me with an almost snarl on his lips. “Yer an idiot lad. I am Bozkurt and I woon be denied.” He said angrily and then pulled the dagger out of my throat.

I fell onto my knees and held both hands against my neck as blood began to pour forth. The Dwarf looked at me with wide eyes and then up at the orge behind me. “Oh shit! I nik’t is neck.” He said and then he and his man bolted out of the tavern as I chocked on my own blood.

What a stupid way to die, AGAIN!!! Killed by a surly dwarf who fucked up and stabbed my neck by accident! Of all the fucking ways.

As I fell down onto my side, gagging and dry heaving to attempt to get some air into my starving lungs, I realized something. If it wasn’t for the Liches gift ability I had I’d never be able to even think on my revenge. I mean as far as things went I was now half-undead after all. I came back to life as long as I had my heart intact inside my body, I think.

I’m not about to remove my own heart to see if it grows a body around it. I know We do a lot for science back home but I think I’ll draw the line there. Maybe if I manage to be able to gift the ability to another I’ll test it out but not on myself.

As I was fading out I looked up at the horrified face of the barmaid. Her fear was so genuine and I realized she was fearing for me. Why would such a person do that? Innocence? Guilt flooded me then as I remembered what Garmur and his pack had done to the innocent caravanners and I had done to the adventurers.

I managed to speak only a few words by holding tightly onto my neck, almost to chocking levels. “P-Put me in a room.” I chocked out as I let out an explosive breath that spattered the floor with my blood. “I’ll… I’ll heal.” I groaned out, almost into her shoulder as she had come up to me and was holding onto me. Then everything fully faded to black.

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“Du! Du HAST! DU HAST MICH!!!” A voice boomed in my head and I startled awake with a shout. I looked around wide-eyed and ready only to see a certain ghoul snorting and holding his clawed hands against his mouth. I was starting to not like this darn drunkard.

A thick chitinous hand slammed down on the back of his head as Zalruk came up behind O’Malley. “Get lost. Don’t you have other souls to prank?” He said almost with dripping venom in his tone. O’Malley took the hind and gave me a salute with an index and middle finger and a shit-eating grin on his face as he left us.

I looked from him to Zalruk and then rubbed my neck with a grimace. “This is becoming a habit of yours.” Zalruk said with a mirthful chuckle as he moved and sat his considerable bulk down in front of me. I realized I was sitting in a sort of lotus position with my legs crossed and my hands on top of my knees.

I gave him a grimace and continued to rub my throat. “Not willingly that is for sure.” I groaned and felt like my throat had turned into sandpaper it was so damn dry. “Why do I seem to come here when I die?” I asked then before Zalruk somehow produced a large glass of water for me to chuck down.

“I think it’s because your soul is tethered somehow to this place. Usually those with the Liches gift ability go to the afterlife they are destined for in that moment, before they come back that is.” He said with a sort of grace to his tone that it reminded me a little of when my father or grandfathers consoled me as a child. It was strangely calming and made me feel oddly safe for some reason.

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“So this is my heaven or hell?” I asked with a raised eyebrow and my mood seemed to lift a little when his Frank Sinatra like voice let out a hearty chuckle.

“Perhaps O’Malley is your hell?” He asked with a little laugh and I had to laugh with him. I would consider it a personal hell to be around the Ghoul every second of every day forever. Zalruk continued to chuckle for a little while before he laid his hand reassuringly upon my shoulder. “Vlad, I know that you have a sort of honour or code to uphold to yourself and what happened two day’s ago is something that weighs heavily on your mind.”

I stiffened at his words and lowered my head. I felt shame at what had happened and the guilt had coiled itself around my intestines and left me feeling disgusted with myself. “Do not beat yourself up over it. There is a corruption that has latched onto your soul. It isn’t malevolent at least to you, but it will try it’s utmost in getting your revenge for you. At whatever the cost, which you might have to pay.” He said then and I looked up at him, almost incredulous.

“How do I get rid of it!” I asked but then I noticed that the corners of my vision were beginning to fade into black. “Tell me.” I desperately pleaded as I gripped Zalruk’s shoulders but as he answered I only heard it vaguely as if underwater and behind a thin wall. I couldn’t make out the words at all before I faded away again.

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I woke up with an almost angry cry. “No!! Tell me!!” I shouted as I rose up on the bed as if I was playing at being Dracula, rising from his coffin. Next to me I heard a shriek and saw the young barmaid staring at me with wide eyes and palpable fear in her eyes. Next to her was another woman who stared just like the barmaid at me.

Where the barmaid was a buxom redhead with ample curves and freckles over her face. The Other woman was dressed in a sort of long white coat that reached all the way down to her feet and was almost buttoned down to her knees. Her body was slim and lithe but I didn’t expect a buxom elf to walk around. Her ears weren’t like mine, bat-like warcraft elf ears, hers were only a little more elongated than a human's and pointy at the end. Her long coat had a hood that had little slits to allow her ears through which I found a little adorable. It sort of made her look like a cute little hairless elf or something. Christ, I need my head examined.

I narrowed my eyes at the woman. She was a Ljós alfar that was for certain. Her fear seemed to grow as I narrowed my eyes at her and both women yelped when I stood up.

“What happened?” I asked gently as my mind came around to working condition and I realized the elf was a doctor or something.

“H-how?!” The elf asked me with disbelief on her face. Then she seemed to gather herself and walked up to me and forced me to sit down. That is quite the strength for such a dainty little body. “You will explain what just happened right now.” She said with such a stern look that I thought my mother had possessed the woman or something.

“Uh… I healed?” I answered like a genius.

The elf’s face grew red and what followed was a shouting lecture I can’t really remember really.

After I think ten or so minutes she finally calmed down enough so that I could speak to her. “I have troll blood in my family so I can regenerate quite quickly.” I explained, like a liar.

The elf didn’t seem all that convinced but the barmaid had left after about two minutes into the doctor's sermon and gave me a smile as she left. I’d have to thank her though maybe I shouldn’t as I was staring at the glaring elf.

The elf took out a crystal and was about to press it against my forehead when I snatched her hand and looked at her. My look must have said ‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ to her as she sighed and looked at me with exacerbation. “I’m going to check your character sheet to see if you are lying to me.” She said with a stern look and the annoyed and unamused look I gave her made her cheeks redden a little and she looked away.

“You were dead. There was no heartbeat yet your skin was warm. You’ve been dead for about an hour or two.” She said and she looked at me with that look women tend to use when they want someone to pity them and do what they want. I wasn’t going to budge on this, despite how weak I had been to women my previous two lives.

“I don’t care. You aren’t going to just get access to my most private things.” I said sternly and stood up, pushing the Elf down onto the bed as I passed her. She let out a yelp as she fell onto her back on the bed, looking up at me as she held her upper body up with her elbows. She seemed terrified as she looked up at me as I stood there at the edge of the bed.

I snorted a little and laughed at her, to her rather visible confusion. “I’m not going to do anything to you, I just want to get something to eat and drink. I’m parched and starving, healing takes a lot out of me.” I said with mirth in my tone, I was only half lying. I had noticed it that when I ‘healed’ I grew rather parched and hungry. My guess is that it takes what the body can offer to regenerate it while also using some sort of magic to facilitate it all.

I just hoped if my head was cut off I wouldn’t lose my memories. Cause that would be bad.

The elf huffed at me almost indignantly as I moved towards the door to leave to the inn. “Wait.” She suddenly said as my hand gripped the door handle. I turned my head to look at her. “Who did it?” She asked, her black hair was a little all over the place now as the hood of her long coat, her piercing blue eyes stared at me. I found it strange but I was used to the almost goat-like eyes of the ljós alfar. The vertical pupil is so damn strange to look at on a mostly human face.

“What?” I asked cause I’m apparently so darn smart.

She only frowned and then pointed at my neck. “If you aren’t going to tell me how you’re alive I want to know who wounded you.” She said sternly and I began to think of some of those dnd games I had played with my friends. And how stubbornness sometimes derailed them.

“I don’t know some dwarf, named Bazooka… Bourbon… Bozun?” I couldn’t remember the name for the life of me. I scratched at my chin before rustling my hair up in frustration at not remembering the fuckers name.

I knew my memory was about as full of holes as Swiss cheese and about as useful as one. (That is if you used the cheese as a bucket or something.) But this was ridiculous.

The woman looked at me and then spoke out almost uncertain of herself. “Bozkurt?” I snapped my finger and pointed at her with a slight smile.

“Bozkurt Yeah that’s it Bozkurt Magmajaw or something. That’s the one I’m going to shave completely after I have some sustenance.” I said with a cheerful smile, though in the back of my mind I was happy as a clam of at least finding a target to went on with justification no less.

“I… wouldn’t go after him.” She said carefully as if warning me and keeping herself safe with what she was saying to me. I tilted my head towards her and almost narrowed my eyes at her. “He’s a rather wealthy merchant around these parts.” She explained while entwining her own fingers, I guessed a nervous habit or something.

“And? He stabbed me in the neck. I don’t know how your people handle such things but mine get even.” I said pointing at my chest with my thumb after pointing my index finger at her.

She sighed loudly and I could swear she just barely managed not to roll her eyes at me. “He’s also rather well connected to the Desert Jackals and the underworld in this city.” She said and almost harumphed at me while crossing her arms.

“So?” I asked with a raised eyebrow and laughed internally at the look of utter shock she gave me in return. “He’s just one man. If I manage to get even without him even knowing it was me then it’s all good.” I said with a wide cheeky grin on my face.

“That won’t work.” She said almost hissing at me from anger. “He has connections all over the empire and even to the Nephket kingdom and the Azuli people.” She said as she walked up and invaded my personal space, almost pressing her meagre chest against my own.

“He will find out who crossed him and eliminate them. No one is safe from him or those in his circle.” She said and before she could launch into another lecture I put my hand in front of her in a gesture of a handshake.

“Hi, My name is Vlad von Carstein.” I said with what I hoped was a disarming smile. She didn’t know what I could do or that I intended something much, much worse for ol’ Bozkurt. He killed me after all, only fair I kill him right back.

She looked at me dumbfounded and flabbergasted as she took a step back and just stared at me. I was starting to feel very awkward and dumb, well dumber really, before she took my hand. “I’m Valva. Valva Vamadra.” She said with a slight smile though she did also seem to be about done with me entirely.

I however, hid how my back stiffened at the mention of her name. “That's a Wolfsguardian name right?” I asked almost warily as I shook her hand. I was glad she didn’t pick up on it or at least she didn’t seem to.

“Yes, my family is from there originally though it’s been almost a century since we moved out here to Bedelev.” Valva said and she gave me a little smile as I opened the door and gently pushed her out before me.

“Thank you for your help Valva. I appreciate that you took time out of your most likely busy schedule to see if you could treat me. I’ll keep what you said about Bozkurt in mind, I promise.” I said gently as I ushered her ahead of me.

She seemed almost offended or put up upon by my actions. I didn’t much care and simply ushered her ahead of me. She huffed a little and after berating me a little for coin for her services I gave her two silver for her time. Well that and I kept a little joke about the differences between doctors and prostitutes I had in mind to myself.

Once she left, probably in a huff, I went down the stairs to the tavern on the first floor of the inn. I thanked the barmaid and owner for their aid and even enjoyed a few of the disbelieving looks from some of the patrons that had been here through the day.

I had been out most of the day and it seemed that my body was getting ready to go to sleep. I just decided to keep myself awake until a proper time.

I got another flagon of mead and a stew for dinner and while I ate I went over the notifications that I had left alone for almost two days now.

Congratulations! You’ve levelled up the following classes and skills!

Death squire lvl. 7 > 11! Necromancer lvl. 4 > 8! Shadowmancer lvl. 5 > 9!

Basic Death’s tug lvl. 3 > 4! Basic Death’s ethereal armour lvl. 6 > 8! Basic Wraith step lvl. 6 > 7!

Basic Raise minor skeleton lvl. 7 > 9! Basic Raise minor spectre lvl. 3 > 4! Basic Raise Skeleton lvl. 1 > 3! Basic Shadow strike lvl. 3 > 5! Basic Shadow bolt lvl. 4 > 5! Basic Shadow infusion lvl. 7 > 9! Advanced Evasion lvl. 5 > 6! Basic Parrying lvl. 5 > 7! Basic improvised weaponry lvl. 1 > 2! Basic Intimidating growl lvl. 4 > 6! Basic Power strike lvl. 6 > 7! Basic Toughened skin lvl. 4 > 5!

Gained stat points: +1 Gained skill points: +2 (-2+2=0) Gained ability points: +1

Damn! I have a skill for Death squire to choose but I had already chosen a skill for the necromancer class? What?! Ah! So that’s the raise skeleton skill. I remember a guy or two in armour I think riding with me. Though those past two day’s had been a rather hazy journey in depression.

I guess I have a real need for skill points. I mean I seem to have gotten through the minus deficit in skill points but given how many I already had at level nine I needed more. Around perhaps five or six I think. Then again I decided to spend the stat point into strength to get it up to thirty.

I was certain now that most of those around my level would be overwhelmed by my strength in a straight-up fight. This would allow me to focus on the other stats for a little while until I’d need to grow in strength once more.

Now I just had to think of what to do with my ability point. I think I’m good when it comes to armour and regeneration at the moment. Perhaps I should put it into Vampiric strength to see where it goes? Or bone claws?

I groaned a little inwardly at the choices I had before me. It wasn’t that I felt trapped or that I didn’t want to spend it. It was more that I wanted to upgrade most of my skills but wanted to try for a little more balanced upgrades when it came to most of my innate abilities.

With a little sigh, I decided to spin the spoon in the bowl once I had finished it. Deciding to decide with a simple coin flip type of mechanic. It landed on it’s front so the back of the spoon was face up and I shrugged a little and chose to upgrade vampiric strength because of that.

Vampiric strength has been upgraded! Vampiric physiology lvl. 1 obtained!

Strength: +4 Agility: +6 Vitality +4 Endurance: +6 Intelligence: +2 Perception: +6

Holy hell! That is some upgrade! I quickly looked over the ability and found out that that one upgrade had changed it from giving twice the amount of points I spent on strength would now also apply to endurance and agility! I should have done this sooner!

I scratched at my head in frustration. There was too much I didn’t know about my abilities and I could have so much higher stats now if I just knew of what each ability would give me and what the next upgrade would give me. I had half a mind of just going up to my room and falling on my sword so I could yell at those five for giving me absolutely no guide or help when it came to the abilities I now had.

I sat there and grumbled internally until I had finished the flagon and stood to leave the tavern. I’d take a look at my whole statistics while getting a look around. Perhaps I could find some interesting things around for sale.

When I had gone around the market for around half an hour I remembered I had looted the bodies of the adventurers and caravanners and had just stuffed it all into packs for those horses I had raised to carry along with the other skeletons I had raised.

I almost slapped my forehead when it came to my sheer stupidity and single-mindedness. Bah, perhaps it was simply a question of foresight I didn’t have due to lack of experience?

I sighed as I sat down at the fountain in the middle of the market square. I needed to get my shit together, the corruption thing and my fluctuating emotions were driving me insane. I wasn’t used to having them so damn vivid within me. I had ‘suffered’, not my words for it, from Aspergers and was as close to being a sociopath without being one.

My emotions had always been there but compared to now they had been muted, much more manageable. Granted I had felt anger and sadness the strongest but this was all new to me. Was that the corruption they had all talked about?

Argh! This was driving me insane! I hated not being in control of myself or knowing things I really ought to. I ran my fingers through my hair as I leaned over in my seat on the fountain, letting the claws out a little to feel that wonderful feeling of getting my scalp scratched.

I had to somehow regain control of my emotions and myself really. Perhaps I had slaughtered the adventurers in rage when they had mentioned Aona? I mean I do remember I had quite the temper.

I sighed as I leaned back, with my hands on either side of my hips and I decided to close my eyes. Spinning through my mind for a few of those songs that I used to hum or just listen to when I felt like it or wanted to relax.

Slowly I began to rock from side to side as I started up the music I remembered in my head. Then I, unfortunately, began to let out the lyrics from my mouth. “I see the crystal raindrops fall and the beauty of it all is when the sun comes shining through~♪”