Blazing skeletal figures flailed about as Wail threw around his signature spell - lips twisted into a sinister sneer. He was quite happy. Survived the lethal fall, got a new interesting class, new spells and soon he’d be wearing new attire. That didn’t reek of death. A hard smell to get out when you’re constantly dealing in it.

Using the fresh exit that opened up after that fancy lightshow - Wail was out for new prey. More than two days left before the weekly loot and experience bonus expires and he was not planning on leaving early. Outside of the chamber, he encountered new enemies - possessed bodies of the deceased. Skeletal forms with ragged clothing - wielding rusted or even broken weapons. Surely, they seemed quite formidable in their own special way. But those dry bones and clothes just burned so well! Wail couldn't help but exploit such a jeering soft spot. End result? Custom lighting in the lowest part of the dungeon. With Life Tap Wail had an almost unlimited supply of fireballs. Thus he just went about doing what he always did inside Alternative Reality - bringing a little spark to the game. Or a lot of sparks. In addition to running around and avoiding the enemy until they turned to ash. Seems like this was his day - and it was just beginning.

It didn’t take long for Wail to reach level 75. Wasn’t very hard either. Though the loot down here was terrible. Nothing useful - the loot bonus didn’t even help. All Wail got was a pair of worn shoes. Or more like slippers. Not much use for winter.

Angis Footwear

Description: Worn by Angis the Enlightened - an anxiety stricken magician who dreamed of glory and conquest below earth. Went down into a random cave - searching for adventure. Never returned.

Durability: 17/31

Defense: 4

Restrictions: Level 10.

Restrictions: Any magician class.

*+10 Wisdom, +15 Intellect.

*+200 Mana.

*May cause the owner to slip by accident.

New shoes, a dagger and a robe. Wail felt quite excited, even took a whiff of his robe - which resulted in another note in his “what not to do ever again” list. Smelled better than the previous one though.

Character name: Wail

Level: 75

Class: Warlock

Reputation: -306

Title: Heretic

Souls: 0

Experience: 15.3%

Health: 3280

Mana: 3960

Stamina: 1480

Strength: 20

Intellect: 265

Agility: 10

Fortitude: 50

Wisdom: 185

Precision: 10

Attack: 35-53

Defense: 64

Charisma: 8

Leadership: 31

Luck: 11

Fame: 300

Health Regen: 6 Health/sec.

Mana Regen: 15 Mana/sec.

Magic Resistance

Fire: 25%

Water: 5%

Nature: 0%

Black: 20%

Light: -10%

Nether: 10%

*Unspent stat points: 44.

*-1 Charisma due to appearance.

*-3 to Charisma due to below 0 Reputation.

*+6 Leadership due to Fame.

*+250 Health and + 150 Defense due to Fortitude.

*+1250 Mana and + 6 mana regeneration due to Intellect.

*+20% Fire, +10% Nether magic resistance due to Warlock.

*+20% Black and -10% Light magic resistance due to Warlock

Title bonus

*Hated by all major religions.

*Accepted by all evil religions.

*Contact with a member of any major religion may cause them to drop into a religious fervor - pursuing you with psalms and religious signs.

*Double negative effect upon killing or dying by the hand of a member of any major religion. May force subjugation parties to be unleashed upon the player. Will hunt until success or destruction.

*Triple experience for killing a member of any major religion.

*+5 mana regeneration.

*+10% mana.

*+10% spell damage.

Wail spent the next 10 minutes admiring his own status screen. Somebody had to - he did work hard enough to earn a pat on the shoulder. And since he had no friends to do it for him - Wail had to do it himself. Patting his own shoulder felt somehow backwards though. He’d get back on it later. Now? He had another unexpected development underway.

While strolling around with a loaf of bread in his mouth Wail met an old acquaintance - Bob. Oh what a pleasant surprise - he could hardly contain himself. Bob was leaning against the wall - hemorrhaging profoundly. Didn’t seem like it would end well for the poor fella.

Once Bob noticed a familiar face, he weakly reached out towards Wail. One didn't need to be a genius to realize his request - but this was Wail. He quickly scurried towards him and rummaged thought Bob's pockets. Scavenging every single thing - like poor Bobs’ fate was already written in stone. Wail - always practical, no matter the situation.

"It's not like you'll need any of that where you're going" - Wail shrugged at Bob's displeased, yet pleading stare. No conscience at all - and it's not like the bandit could do anything about it. He lost too much blood and was nearing his last seconds of existence - staring at Wail with those puppy dog eyes of his. A hard thing to bear, surely. Thus, who could blame Wail - for what he did next?

Wail looked at his newly acquired dagger - its’ edge shining in an alluring purple. Shrugged. Guess this was the perfect opportunity to test out its’ effect on living beings. A stab, a gasping last breath and the deed was done. Soon though, purple streams of light started to gather from the corpse - right into Wails' blade. Like the bandit’s very souls entered a new vessel. A lovely lightshow. For a moment Wail was afraid his dagger would turn into some purple light-stick people used in those crazy concerts he saw on television. Not something he’d like to run around in hand with - would totally ruin his style. Luckily - it was soon over and the dagger returned to its’ usual sheen, but the victim didn’t seem to respond. So much for that eye-numbing charade.

Yet, soon enough - Bob opened his eyes and stood up with a complete absence of surprise on his face. It’s like he was out on a short stroll to the mall - finding everything the way he left it, once back. Wounds completely healed - as new as he’ll ever be.

"For some reason I have this urge to obey your every command. Which makes me feel quite uncomfortable and safe at the same time" - Bob then said, after a short ritual of touching himself. All over. Wail looked away during it.

Wail was pleased with his words though. Not so much with the ritual, but all was in the past now - he had the perfect method to test his loyalty as well.

"Where do you stash your loot?" - He asked suddenly, no introductions, no explanations - mercilessly, cold-bloodedly. Greedily. Basically - like his usual self. Nothing out of the ordinary. Probably another reason why he didn’t have any friends. Always doing things in his own pace.

„Why would I tell you that? “ - Bob then replied, giving his new master the „weird eye“- „What, just because I offered you my undying allegiance, does that mean I have to tell you every single one of my secrets? Do you want to know if I wipe my ass after I finish next? - He went on.

Wail was dumbfounded - smacking his own forehead in frustration. He just couldn‘t believe this. What was the point in the whole „obey the master’s will” bull-crap then? This whole master-servant system was obviously flawed. Wail was about to fold, but decided to give it one more go.

A flick of the finger, a little spark and Wail was about ready to roast some minion. “What use are you to me, if you won’t even obey? What was all that “undying allegiance” crap, anyway?” - A slight glare. Seems like Wail was seriously disappointed. A man with broken dreams.

An effective method of communication though - it seemed to work on Bob just fine. All the hostility gone, like it was never there to begin with. He backed off a step or two, waved his hands defensively and stared at Wail with innocent eyes - full of surprise.

“Whoah! Calm down man. It’s not like I said anything about defiance or anything” - Wail raised an eyebrow to that, which demanded - and eventually got an explanation - “Look…” - Bob said after rubbing his forehead, a serious and almost sincere expression. Did not fit the whole “bandit” role at all. Quite out of character - “Just because I don’t want to share all of my deepest secrets with you, does not mean I oppose your obvious rule. You have my soul for gods’ sake! Not much I can do about it” - He said while shrugging - “Thus I’ll roll with you and fight for you. I understand that your wellbeing kind of dictates my own. So…partners?” - A touching story. Bob extended a hand towards Wail, looking at him hopefully. He thought the act worked. Didn’t fool Wail at all. Nothing gets through his keen senses. His animal like instincts.

Or that’s just what he wants you to think. Indeed - it got through to Wail. A barely containable smile appeared on his lips. This was probably the first time ever he experienced something of the sort. Thus Wail did not know how to react properly. A quick wrist movement and Bob was jumping around - trying to put out the fire on his left foot.

“Fine” - Wail replied eventually. By now, he managed to hide the smile. Back to his usual self. Violence always helps. He rummaged through his satchel and took out an old rusted sword.

“Here’s your sword back” - Wail then said, downcast - giving away a long-sword. For free. Ridiculous. Bob looked at it suspiciously though - completely ignorant of the sacrifice.

"Wait…This isn’t my sword. I don’t know where you got this piece of junk-metal, but mine was way better" - Replied Bob, inspecting the gifted sword with visible disgust. Wail had a hard time controlling his temper. The nerve of this guy! All that sweet-talk was obviously an act. A sudden urge to light Bob on fire again, struck Wail.

“Take it or leave it. Now show me your status screen - before I decide to brighten you up” - Wail then bluffed with an over-done frown. He wasn’t going to burn him. Not yet. There was no real point to it. If what the bandit said was true - he might serve as quite an ally. Thus, like it or not - the two were stuck together. For a time.

Luckily - Bob only mumbled something under his nose and did as he was bid.

Character name: Bob (NPC)

Level: 67

Class: Dark Minion

Reputation: -156

Experience: 15.3%

Souls: 0

Health: 4020

Mana: 1005

Stamina: 2010

Strength: 150

Intellect: 10

Agility: 65

Fortitude: 150

Wisdom: 10

Precision: 10

Attack: 94-195

Defense: 120

Charisma: 16

Leadership: 18

Luck: 10

Fame: 56

Health Regen: 15 Health/sec.

Mana Regen: 2 Mana/sec.

Magic Resistance

Fire: 10%

Water: 0%

Nature: -10%

Black: 20%

Light: -15%

Nether: 15%

*+10% Black, +10% Fire, +5% Nether magic resistance due to Wail.

*+10% Black, Nether magic resistances due to Dark minion.

*-15% Light, -10% Nature magic resistance due to Dark minion.

*-1 Charisma due to reputation.

*+1 Leadership due to fame.

Satisfactory stats. A real meat-shield. Bob would indeed prove useful.

“Now that I think about it, where is the rest of your crew?”- He then asked, giving his surroundings a quick look like he expected some sudden ambush or signs of it.

Bob was quite saddened by the question – shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Wail had his doubts though.

“Probably dead by now... Once that strange fiery thing broke in, we all bailed towards different directions” – He started explaining in a gloomy tone – “I encountered quite a few monsters till I got here - which might have turned out in a similar manner for them as well”

Wail scratched his chin while nodding. A sinister glint in the eye. Oh yes. Less competition. Now that everyone else was dead and Bob was more or less his minion – everything inside this dungeon was surely all his. Though that hot skeletal figure might prove to be a hindrance in need of disposing. All in due time – Wail needed a rest. It was time to log off.

“Hide somewhere and don’t you dare die, before I get back. Got it?” – He said, waving his fatherly bony finger at the new servant. A true figure of care and understanding.

Bob scoffed at it though – “What are you? My mom? I’ll do whatever I want” – He replied, while hiding behind some dark corner, as ordered.

Fantastic. Wail rubbed his temple and left this world for another – the unfaithful bastard that he was.