《Dead Sale》


 Prologue - Job Interview

    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."


    <hr>


    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 thatlooked 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.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "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 ofemotion 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.

 Chapter 2

    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.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    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.