A large beast of a stag was what the wolves lead me to. It was huge! Easily as big as the worg was with horns that formed an imperial crown growing from its head. Around it was a young buck and four does. I have no idea if those are the correct words but I’m sticking by it.

I used Shadow melt and stealth together as I tried to aim properly. Breathing in and out in slow shallow breaths as I tried to work in a power or shadow strike into the bolt. Power strike didn’t work but Shadow strike did.

It seems that shadow strike works with any type of attack, they just have to be physical attacks. With that set, I aimed and fired.

I’d like to say I hit the thing, but the bolt hit the stags horns and bounced into the air. Flipping in the air until disappearing in the undergrowth. The stag turned to look at me, I mean directly at me, and let out their strangely haunting cry.

The young buck and the doe’s all ran away, however, the stag stood his ground.

With a curse under my breath I moved in and drew out my weapons. The wolves also came out of the undergrowth and we surrounded the stag. It simply snorted at me as it stomped its hoof down and nodding its head towards me threateningly.

I watched it for a moment before pointing at the stag and commanding the wolves to attack. Four went straight for its legs, two others went for its back and the last for its throat. I tried to slash out with my axe at the side of its head.

The stag didn’t want that to happen in the least. Jumping up and kicking it’s back legs into one of the skeletal wolves while whipping its head hard into another. In a second I lost two wolves. The first exploding when it hit a tree and the second losing its upper body as it spilt out into a field of loose bones.

I jumped to the side as the stag came charging at me. I felt the horns rip against the tattered leather armour I was wearing and even left a few scars though my defensive carapace. However, the wolves came charging after it and right as the stag was slowing down to turn around they attacked. They ran in and clamped their jaws on the stags hind legs.

One used the others as a stepping stone and was on top of the stag, ripping into its back with teeth and claws.

I hurried to catch up to them. Right as I got to the stag it kicked me right as I hit it with my axe. The hit sent me flying back into a tree, leaving the axe embedded in its rear thighs. I felt the air rush out of my lungs as I fell off the tree and sprawled on the ground.

The stags cries and shouts filled my ears as I almost crawled on the ground. This was becoming a habit wasn’t it?

Thankfully I only took a few moments to get back up. Just I managed to get up on my feet I heard the stags death cry. The wolves had ripped into it. A chunk of its backside, neck and throat missing but still would work at least.

“Well aren’t you guys eager.” I chuckled as all five wolves sat wagging their tails around the stag.

Now with five wolves left I enlisted their help in dragging the stag back to the town. The wolves had all lined up and then once I had managed to get the stag on their back, they walked with it there. Once at the village I had them move back and continue patrolling around the town.

I had to fetch a few townsfolk to get the stag back into the town. They seemed grateful for my attempt to help out in my own little way. They went on to skin and butcher the creature. I also got to know that I should try and bleed the thing properly before coming back.

I spent some time with the leatherworker and butcher to learn more. I didn’t get any skills as they taught me skinning and preparing a kill. Then they told me there were actual classes centred around craft things. This surprised me which only compounded when they told the those classes maxed out at level fifty.

Skinning was a skill that belonged to the leatherworker class. I had thought I wouldn’t be able to get it but I was told that I could get it. Just had to work for it rather hard.

Thinking it through I realized gathering skills would come in handy. Maybe alchemy for a crafting skill as it would have its uses. Then again I should really just learn more about this darn world.

Rubbing the sides of my head I noticed that night had started to fall. Grumbling a little to myself I moved around the town and managed to help out a bit. This continued the next day as the village had begun to load up the carriages.

I did notice I hadn’t been seeing Campbell around all that much. Perhaps he was just as busy as everyone else.

That night I was rubbing my chin as I sat on a bench, watching how the townsfolk were discussing what to do with Dunleavy. They were torn on either taking him with them to be put into jail or something, or just leaving him for the wolves to take care of. I was rather rooting for the latter. The man was a self-important prick.

I was about to go and just suggest they throw the man into the forest before I noticed the Worg. Standing in between the forest and the village gate. Staring at me. I warily looked at it before I began to feel a tug at my mind.

I wasn’t really up for it but I decided to move to it. Sighing just a little as I hoped the thing wasn’t just fucking with us all because of sheer boredom.

I stopped ten steps from the Worg, looking up at its piercing blue eyes. ‘I see you came.’ The voice came to my mind and I could have sworn it was annoyed at me.

“Well… you can’t really expect much else from me right? I mean you just tried to kill all of us two days ago.” I answered and I could swear it rolled its eyes at me.

Turning around it flicked its tail into my face as it began to head out into the forest. ‘Follow me.’ It said into my mind. I thought I heard something close to to a snicker from it. Narrowing my eyes I followed after it.

This worg confused me to be honest. It was highly intelligent and even could communicate through some form of telepathy. It was quite clearly something not usual for a worg. I mean I had fought a pack of the things that had been raised by a demon before and none of them were as big or even as intelligent as them.

“What exactly are you?” I asked out loud after following the worg rather far from the town. I had commanded one of my wolves to follow after me so I could at least find my way back. The worg stopped and turned its head to look at me. “I mean you aren’t really normal for a worg.”

The worg let out a strange sound, like a mix of a growl, cackling, coughing and chuckling. It then just turned and continued on its way in silence. I began to feel rather stupid for leaving my weapons behind in the town.

I mean I figure it wouldn’t really do me any good but the peace of mind it would bring me was sorely needed right now.

I was filling with a mixture of curiosity and dread as all we did was move into the forest, deeper and deeper. The obsessive silence weighing down on me. I was about to say something when all of a sudden I was rushed off my feet.

A huge wolfman holding me up by my neck. As I gasped for breath I realised this wasn’t a wolfman but an honest to god Werewolf.

These things were really, really rare. Not only due to being hunted down, since the werewolves were freakishly strong beings. But also because of their fur, bones, teeth and etc. Were highly prized items for smiths and alchemists. This is of course besides the obvious thing about werewolves, that being their ability to take the form of a sapient race and blend into their societies.

My legs kicked at the air as I gasped trying to suck in a breath, before the hold loosened just enough to allow me to breathe. I opened my eyes, having closed them without realizing it, seeing the werewolf that held me. Pitch black fur covered the beast, so muscular it could easily be seen through its fur. The promise of untold violence making me want to run away in fear and hide in a deep, deep, deep bunker. Though the sheer terror I felt as I looked into those piercing yellow eyes held me in place.

I stopped struggling against the werewolf’s grip. I knew I had no chance to run away or even fight the thing. It had been so fast I hadn’t even realized it was there until its clawed fingers were around my throat.

The Worg had turned a little and looked at me and the werewolf. A bored look in its eyes as it looked from me to my assailant. A short gruff ‘wuff’ from the worg made the werewolf look at it and then back to me.

The sheer visceral threat in its eyes made me swallow and I fell almost limply as it let go of me.

I gasped in breaths, not only to fill my lungs but to try and calm down. I was in the presence of a freaking upper rank 7 monster. The worg that had just casually barked at it was supposed to be an upper rank 3, maybe lower rank 4 monster.

I glanced at the Worg, sheer panic in my eyes and I could swear it seemed to be amused. Yubb definitely not a normal worg by a long fucking shot.

My vision suddenly filled with black fur and piercing yellow eyes. A threatening growl came from the werewolf as it had moved to impose itself between me and the worg. I looked down, showing meekness to try and hope I’d survive this.

“Y-yebb, no-no looking at-at the wo-w-worg.” I stammered out and a rough snort came back as a reply from the werewolf.

I was so thoroughly terrified as I moved to follow after the two that I didn’t realize when we stopped. I had almost bumped into the werewolf’s back, barely managing to stop myself in time. Slowly raising my head, I began to note our surroundings.

By leaning a bit to the side I saw what lay ahead of the werewolf and I gapped.

A huge Menhir stood in the centre of a ring of other standing stone half as big. With a second ring around those and half the inner circles size. Runic script, runes, intricate markings and the like covered their surfaces.

A clear stone path completing the circles as the path went from one menhir to the next, forming the circle. The whole thing was a little overgrown with grass, weeds and moss covering the bottoms and stones themselves.

This place was old, almost impossibly so. I could feel it in the air, like a permeable yet invisible barrier, thickening the further into the circles one went. I just stood at the edge of the outer most ring and stared at the worg who had gone into the outer most ring.

The werewolf stood just at the edge, it’s large pawed legs almost touching the stone path that ringed it. Then it breathed in and stepped over as it exhaled.

I was dumbfounded, my terror almost went to the back of my mind. Why had the worg brought me here? And why did the symbols all feel so damn familiar to me?

My wandering mind came to a screeching halt as the worg moved a bit to the side. Giving me a view of the central menhir better. There, lying slumped against the central pillar was the ogrewolves corpse.

My mind went gone completely blank and I looked from the corpse to the Worg, then at the werewolf, back to the worg and then back to the corpse again.

I was almost about to take a step back when I suddenly felt a knife at the back of my neck. I stiffened visibly and didn’t even try to move an inch. I began to hear a voice behind me but the voice was low and spoke a language I couldn’t understand.

The worg stared me down as it looked from me and to the person or thing behind me. Then as if to let the moment draw out it waited. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise as a glint came into the worg’s eyes.

It then let out another short ‘wuff’ and I felt cold steel slip into my neck. My body stiffened so much it was hard to move and my memories moved to that day in the cathedral.

I saw the edges of my eyesight grow dark as I fell to my knees. I managed to turn my head to look behind me at the figure who stabbed my neck. It was the figure I had seen when I had been up in the guardhouse.

It towered over me, easily taller than two meters. Its skin was like bark, a spiral in the texture that moved along its entire body to come together in a whirlpool-like mark at the left side of its chest. A toga-like blanket of autumn leaves covered the creature that opened up at the front.

In one hand it held a steel knife with a knotted wood handle, that seemed to have the blade grow out of it. In the other a spear with cut obsidian as the spearhead.

The antlers I had thought I’d seen before must have been branches because the creature had a large ram-like skull. The horns, however, were much thicker and coiled back behind its head before coming around and jutting forward. They were almost black and while it looked as if it was a well-built body wise its legs ended in digitigrade legs that had hooves.

I tried to speak but all that happened was that blood spilt out from the holes in my neck. The knife had gone so cleanly through I didn’t even feel it. It was oddly a peaceful death, despite the horror of it. And so I fell down onto my back and my vision went black.

I came too slowly. Voices were arguing around me and I felt sluggish, as if underwater but it was syrup instead of water. My eyes opened slowly as I moved my head and body only slightly.

I was lying on a stone floor, rough yet clearly worked to be a flat surface. Almost perfectly but there were grooves and pieces missing here and there. Before me was a… a something.

It was almost shaped like a chair but seemed made out of black bones. The surface even seemed similar to black marble and I just couldn’t get a clear picture of it in my addled state.

‘So I’m dead… again.’ I thought bitterly, realizing my aim to help Trolgar out and get my revenge was simply that. Petty little goals I had wished to achieve but wouldn’t. My sour thoughts were cut into when I heard voices behind me.

I was still too weak to move properly so all I could do was to listen while trying to move over and see who was talking.

“So you killed him?” A gruff voice said, angry and annoyed as it almost snarled at someone. Snapping its jaws letting the sound of its teeth coming together resound.

“I did what I had to do.” A slow and wise sounding voice responded. The voice had a deep bass to it while still exuding a sort of calm that was unnatural.

“And why, pray tell.” A cold ethereal voice began. “Did you need to kill him? If it wasn’t for one of his natural abilities that idiotic decision you just made would have been permanent.” The voice said and the growing hardness to it made my spine shiver.

“I did this to speak to you.” The slow voice said and I could swear there was an underlying crackled to it. Like bark slowly creaking or breaking.

“Speak to us? And what pray tell! Does the spirit of the deep woods require of us!” A deep voice almost cried out. It’s voice a deep rumbling bass before a chittering sound came from the same source.

“The creature.” The slow bark like voice started again. “Is corrupted.” It said and it spoke with such finality I was wide-eyed as I tried even harder to turn around to see who was talking. What are they talking about?

“Corrupted?” A voice I found oddly familiar with its near Irish accent. The croaky and gravely undertones of it tickled at my memory. “How so? I mean if the kid’s corrupted in some manner it might explain a few things.”

“Kid?” The bark like voice responded. “That is no child. You should know that better than anyone. Trickster.” It said and I could swear it was annoyed.

“Oh, you’re just saying that because I set fire to your dress that one time.” The Irish like voice responded with a chipper tone. “Want me to do it again?” It then threatened as its tone turned almost to a snarl.

“You really should learn manners.” A smooth baritone voice came and as it reminded me of Frank Sinatra I realized who some of the voices belonged to.

“Manners? This treant with illusions of grandeur just killed the kid.” O'Malley growled back at Zalruk. “HE wilfully killed him.” The ghoul was rather peeved, more so than I’d thought he’d be.

“True but my gift will help with that won’t it?” Németh said in a calm but such a firm tone I could feel O’Malley wilt under her ethereal gaze.

“That doesn’t excuse it.” O’Malley muttered back but I could hear he had been chastised.

“The creature is corrupted.” The bark voice said once more. “There are spirits entwined within it, they will devour its mind and soul.” It said and I could tell it seemed to be pleading with them.

At that moment I managed to turn to look at them, only to be greeted with O’Malley’s grinning face. “Well, well. Spying are we?” He said low and in a conspiratorial manner. His usual cigar nowhere to be seen.

I was about to reply but he simply placed one of his clawed hands upon my throat, as if to tell me to keep quiet. “It’s ok kid. I’m not going to tell them.” He said as he looked over his shoulder at Zalruk, Németh and Sutekh who were arguing with the forest creature that had killed me.

I looked from them to O’Malley once more and mouthed my question. ‘Why am I here? And what are they arguing over?’ The Ghoul peered and narrowed his eyes at my mouth as I “spoke” to him.

“They’re arguing over you and well you died, again.” He said with a wide grin before he placed a hand on my chest. “Good thing that werewolf didn’t kill you. They have a taste for hearts. If you heart is destroyed your dead for real.” He said low enough so only I could hear it.

“Is that what the liches gift does?” I mouthed back at him as I absorbed and tried to work through what he was saying.

“Among other things.” He said but before I could ask him about it he raised his eyebrow at me as if to tell me to be quiet. “However you should invest in my gift more.” He said looking at me with a feigned hurt look upon his face.

“One could think you didn’t like my claws at all.” He said and as he put his claw to his mouth and made a shuush sound something changed.

I had been able to hear the others arguing over some corrupted creature which I had begun to suspect might be me. But now? I couldn’t hear anything besides O’Malley. “Now we can talk in peace.” He said with a happy grin upon his near lipless mouth.

“Why don’t you want me to hear what they are saying?” I asked, wary of the mischievous ghoul.

“It is about things you’re not ready for kid. Simple as that.” He said chuckling a little as he sat back and crossed his legs. “Besides, while your heart is repairing your throat we can have a little chat.” He said with a grin as he took out a cigar and lit it with a small green flame atop one of his claws.

“All right. About what?” I asked as I managed to move so that I sat across from him. The sluggish and thick feeling of my movements muted somewhat. I suspect by whatever he had done.

“Well, how do you find your new existence so far?” He asked with his signature playful grin plastered over his face.

“Its a bit strange I guess. My body’s taller than before.” I said as I scratched at my beard. “I can actually grow a proper beard too.” I said, smiling a little. I had always wanted to be able to grow a proper full beard. But mine always came out a bit patchy and thin in some places.

“That’s good to hear.” O’Malley said and I realized I had no clue where he was going with this. “Now I want to explain a few things to you but first I have to ask you a few questions. All right? Good.” He said as he simply smiled at me while the cigar smoke drifted out between his teeth.

“First off, what did you do before coming here?” He asked but before I could answer he held up a finger and chuckled to himself a little. “Sorry, I mean before you came to this world, to Astarune.”

I paused a little and thought back on my life before all this madness. “I was a simple worker to be honest. A warehouse worker that read stories and binge-watched stuff in my free time.” I replied a little non-committally.

O’Malley simply smirked. “So a loser huh?” He said and I glared at him a little before sighing and nodding dejectedly. I had read so many of these summoned to another world stories. The guy was usually in school, a programmer or some better job. Or at least an interesting one.

“Don’t worry kid.” He said as he placed one hand on my shoulder. “Just think of this as a second chance… after a shityer second chance.” He said and I felt a little better about my previous lives. Though my head was still reeling from his jump from one topic to another. My emotions seemed to follow suit as he spoke.

“Now I’m going to tell you something's that are happening around you. First off you are in the deep woods. A region controlled by the leaf wearing guy behind me. He’s named Chernobog and like us he is a sort of demigod or greater spirit.”

I cocked my head to the side at hearing that. O'Malley rolled his eyes at seeing that and muttered something about the young and knowing mythology.

“You could say, we are the archangels of specific gods.” He then said with a shrug. “Only problem is, the gods are dicks around here.” He spoke with a dissatisfied grimace. “So they tend to try to kill each other to be at the top. Some just try to steal stuff from one another. This behaviour of theirs lead to several gods being murdered and their greater spirits were scattered to the winds.”

O’Malley pointed at Chernobog with his thumb over his shoulder. “He used to belong to a nature god named Agreus. He looks just like him but he was his hunter. Now he protects the deep woods and is venerated by the druids and those more nature attuned. It’s fine though, since many of the greater spirits are venerated as minor gods in their respective pantheons.” He said and smiled weakly, blowing the smoke out from his nostrils instead of his mouth.

I realized this was a rather touchy subject to these greater spirits but what he had said made me curious. As much as I might not wish to, to try and keep my emotions from jumping all over the place, I had to know. “Which god did you belong to? And were you a minor god?” I asked a bit tentatively.

O’Malley looked at me with a strange look. A mixture of a smile of fondness, a grimace, a wince and disappointment all rolled into one. “I serve… served the god known as the Void strider. Not original, I know but he got that name because of his role. His tasks all related to death, judgement, magic relating towards death and travel if you can believe it.”

He paused a little, moving his mouth similarly as one would while chewing ones lip. “He walked the void between realms, shepherding the souls of the dead. Judging them and guiding them to their respective afterlives, whether it was a reward or punishment. He judged fairly and impartially. He taught the mortals the ways of burial and the honouring of the dead. Guardian of the secrets of death and its magic, He towered among the gods.” O’Malley’s voice had taken a tone of almost fond reverence as he spoke.

“We were all considered his minor gods and his retinue where he held his court. Németh was known as the weeping mother. She herded and guarded over those considered children when they died. She taught the mortals the magic that would guard their dead in their mausoleums and granted very minor healing and protection spells to her small following.” He said as he looked towards Németh with a wistful look.

He then shook his head a little and looked pointedly at me. “I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway. Just try to find one of the religious books of the Void strider and his pantheon. I want you to focus on something.” He said while poking into my chest with his clawed finger.

“You should know some stuff about the system. You should know there are synergies and even combinations available to you.” He said and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Given this is such a game like system I had thought there would be synergies. I mean stealth and archery or knife use for one. But I hadn’t thought of combinations.” I said showing my slight apprehension of this entire situation and his reluctance of telling me where him and the others came from. I guessed I’d just have to look them up.

“Yeah, Such as an ability or skill combining with something else.” He paused as I remembered what had happened to the unarmed combat and claw combat combining. “Ah, I see it’s happened before for you.” He said with a smirk.

“Well then know this. Sometimes a class will allow for skill or even ability evolutions so I’d recommend cultivating your classes as much as you can. Secondly, think about this. Try to save up your skill points since sometimes when you're about to advance a skill it can combine with another. They might even mutate due to you having a certain skill or ability already.”

He demonstrated by holding up his hand. I noticed his fingers turning into large bone claws, with balefire beginning to thinly cover them. I let out a slight sound of astonishment. I clearly wasn’t in any of the normal knows in this world.

How had I even functioned here in Astarune for four years?! I began to wonder not of revenge but rather the whole point of it. What had Aona and the others actually wished to achieve by the whole game? It couldn’t have been just to get the land they had gained from killing off the demon king of that land. Then what?

I began to feel a little uneasy over the whole thing. Perhaps I was just a step towards something else?

I wasn’t allowed to ruminate more on that thought before O’Malley began to speak once more. “Now I’d suggest trying to get Zalruks and my own gifts up to around level four or five.” He said with a slight expression I couldn’t put my finger on. “I and he realized by watching you, that there is perhaps a synergy waiting to happen. Also, try to get your hands on the rouge class.” He said as he leaned a little back and watched me.

This was all a little too much information for me to get bombarded with within such a short time. With my head reeling I grabbed hold of one question I had, had for a while.

“Why me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

O’Malley simply cocked his head to the side curiously. “What do you mean? Why you?” He asked before he flicked his finger at my forehead. “Figure that out by yourself.” He said gruffly and looked annoyed at my question.

I rubbed my forehead a little grumpily. “Ok fine but could you tell me something about the first few days since I was reborn?” I asked and glared a little at him.

The ghoul simply took a drag of his cigar and then looked at me and nodded to me. As if he was magnanimously giving me permission to ask.

“Why was there a silence spell over Trolgar’s cave and is he still alive?” I asked with a pointed look at the smirking ghoul.

“Simple hunting tactics. Trolls sense mana very well, just can't use it as well, so putting up a simple silence spell over their caves is often enough to draw them out.” He paused to take another drag of his cigar. “Now as for Trolgar himself? Well, he’s still alive. If you want to meet up with him then I’d suggest heading towards Isca.”

“Isca? What about Sturmhold?” I asked as I remembered what Grandon had told me about the troll hunters.

O’Malley simply chuckled and waved his hand, as if trying to push away the smoke around himself. “Oh No, no, no.” He began, then looked at me with a slightly serious look. “Isca is a great port city. Those hunters will get a better price for Trolgar there. After all, Sturmhold is a bit too close to Wolfsgarde. Now that they’ve begun to try and expand their borders again.”

At hearing that I thought back and then looked at O’Malley. “Again?… Wait have they summoned another hero?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. I’d have thought they did it sparingly, waiting at least a century or so between summons.

O’Malley seemed to have the same thought and chuckled. “No kid they haven’t. The campaign is actually lead by a trio you know well. Ragnar, Sigrun and Mario.” He said and his grin turned wicked as he stared at me.

I felt like I was staring down a predator that had just decided I would make a lovely snack.

I frowned at him. “I’m not going against them right now, I'd be slaughtered.” I said almost in a deadpan tone. I wasn’t that stupid to fall for this little revelation.

The ghoul’s grin turned to a shit-eating one. “I wasn’t trying to get you to go after them.” He said though I noticed a pleased look come over him. “At least your smart enough to realize you’re not strong enough to even look in their direction at the moment.” He said as he put his hand on top of my head and ruffled my hair.

Before I could push the hand away and stare daggers at him, he put a flask in my hand. Looking down at it and then up at him I had to raise an eyebrow. In my hand was a full-on bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Just a little taste of home.” The ghoul said, his fanged maw in a wide smile. I then noticed the cigar he had in his mouth. It seemed to be a Balmoral Dominican cigar.

O’Malley flicked his finger at the top of the bottle and I watched the cap spin fast enough to fly off. Before I could even speak he had pushed the tip of it into my mouth. “Just take a little sip and relax.” He said and I began to realize the edges of my vision were starting to become fuzzy.

“Now, it seems our time’s over so just guzzle that little taste of home I can provide you with.” The ghoul said as he all but forced the booze down my throat. With a warm feeling in my belly and the scent of O’Malley’s cigar in my nose, my awareness faded out.

I slowly got back up once my awareness came back. Before me stood Chernobog, the worg and werewolf. Chernobog looked down at me and then raised his hand in a gesture for me to get up.

“You have been judged. Leave this forest.” He said then and pointed me to where I saw my skeletal wolf waiting for me at the edge of the clearing.

I wasn’t even allowed to speak, or rather I wasn't answered no matter what I asked. Chernobog just ordered away and back to the village. I wasn’t really ready to try and get on Chernobog’s bad side so I backed off and retreated.

As I walked through the forest, guided by my skeletal wolf, I thought deeply about what I had to do. What were my goals? Well, the immediate goal was to wait for the townsfolk to leave and then raise the horse and see if my theory on trying to evolve it had any merit. Then I’d go to Isca, to see if I can’t help Trolgar out or at least find him.

Now long term plans would have to be learning more about the system. I’d like to see if there are any interesting class combinations as well. Then of course its to become stronger to actually manage my revenge but I was beginning to realize that it would take time. Much more time than I had initially thought.

I’d also require a base or a place where I might be left alone. Someplace I could have an armoury, train, study and experiment with my abilities. I’d just hope that adventurers wouldn’t designate it as a dungeon. For that, I require resources and funds.

My emotions were still churning and writhing within my mind but I just couldn't put them in their places. It seemed like this was something that might be caused by that corruption Chernobog had spoken of to the death spirits.

What the hell is going on with me? I was like some kind of lunatic with hyperactive A.D.H.D or something. Jumping from one state of mind to another in seconds.

As I thought these things over, the skeletal wolf rubbed its head against my thigh and I absentmindedly began to scratch it. I needed to figure out how I get resources, funds, information and what was wrong with me.

Perhaps I could create a faction or organisation to serve that purpose? Or might I create an undead information network?

I stopped as I noticed a dead raven in a clearing of the forest and I smiled a little to myself. Perhaps I should experiment a little. Pointing to the dead raven I ordered the skeletal wolf to find or get another one for me.

It seemed to yip happily at me, though it couldn’t make any sounds so I wasn’t so sure, before it shot off into the forest. I simply shook my head and moved towards the dead raven and picked it up.

As I examined it I noted it was in ok shape though worms had already begun to eat their way into the corpse. Throwing it to the centre of the clearing I waited till the wolf came back with another raven.

I waited for almost an hour before it returned and I had it place its raven next to the other.

I hadn’t been idle while waiting as I tried out a few of my newer skills as well as go over and ruminate on my status screen.

With an outstretched hand, I began to summon my power and feed it into the corpses of the ravens. A smile on my lips as I thought of a murder of undead crows flying over the world and feeding me secrets they’d pick up.

Ah. Such a glorious thing.