Wail logged back into Alternative Reality - with his left foot continuously tapping the floor. Seems like a certain neighbor decided to crank up the tunes a few notches, providing everyone a concert-level performance. It was mind-boggling how nobody called the police – though Wail wondered how much good that would do. The grim beauty would have probably gotten away with a warning at the flash of a smile. And the show would go on. Surely, it didn’t have a particular target. A special somebody that it was specifically directed at. Of course not. No one held any grudge against innocent little Wail. No one hated him. He had no enemies.

During the whole night Wail was supposed to catch up on some sleep. Was supposed to. It was hard to do with all that racket going on – especially when his feet kept on unconsciously moving about to the beat. Apparently, deep down Wail liked the music quite a bit, but admitting to it was something his pride simply could not allow. What meager amount Wail had of it.

Either way - common musical taste meant absolutely nothing. Not even if every single song played fit the bill. All fifty of them. Counted like sheep before sleep. Sleep that never came - as his patience quickly died away and he left for something more worth-while. One might say that Wail gave up too quickly - but the neighbor showed no signs of turning that racket off or even down. Thus, success at a futile mission was not something Wail preferred to bet on.

Here he was - back into the damp corridors of eternal darkness, the deep in which a temporary solution to his bottomless greed rested. As he was taking in his meek surroundings, eyes sliding over plain carved walls and latching onto a single moving shadow that was barely visible – Wail decided to brighten up the place. A little flick of the wrist and bingo – a mobile candle! Amazing what magic is capable off – Wail even spent a few fleeting moments observing his masterpiece.

Or he just waited for it to burn out and see if anything good dropped. A dissatisfied click of the tongue echoed down the corridors soon after.

Now that all that was done with – he looked around, searching for something. Or someone. A plain stone wall on the right, a plain stone wall on the left with plenty of darkness in between. Water droplets echoing in quick succession – nope. Bob was not present where Wail last saw him. He looked at the dagger he held with his left hand - that which contained the bandit’s soul. Since it served as a vessel - it might also help in search for the lost minion. A few seconds of wishful thinking and Wail’s eyes finally caught on a faint purple stream of light that trailed off into the dark. This was Bob’s lifeline. His string in the dark woods - a guideline to safety. Or more like a guideline to hell – because once Wail caught-up to the slippery-eel, he’d bring a world of pain to the bandit-underling. All in due time.

Wail trailed after the lingering light for a few minutes, traversing the damp, uneven floor. Not a cloud of mist present – apparently it didn’t linger at the very bottom of the dungeon. Which still boggled poor Wail’s marbles quite a bit. It was flowing upward from the get-go, but when he finally reached the bottom – nothing? He’d write a formal complaint to the staff if he cared enough. He didn’t though, it just irked him ever so slightly - enough to grumble. Not enough to act.

Eventually, Wail’s sharp gaze picked up on broken down items and various remains. Vanquished by something. Or someone. Or Bob. Thus, he continued onwards, for a little while longer. Like a hound hot on a trail.

Just around the corner he found the unfaithful manservant sprawled on the floor – counting coins. How in the world did Wail not hear the sound of coins clattering was simply inconceivable. Was he getting old? Did he loose his touch? Did his ears go numb from all the noise outside? Plenty of ideas of doubtful sensibility drifted through his thick brain fluids – yet they were interrupted by the same clattering sound. Seems like the backstabbing bandit was completely oblivious to the presence of his master – or he simply did not care. Wail was planning on fixing that by the looks of it – a twitching frown contorting his already lovable enough face.

“Hello there”- Wail whispered in Bobs ear, as closely as his straight sexual orientation could allow – which wasn’t too close. Bob did react positively though – jolting up like a spring, and falling down again after a slight misstep – “And what are you doing here alone? In the dark? By yourself? Something obscene? – Wail continued in poor humor.

Bob quickly hid all the coins he managed to gather in his pockets and frowned. Probably because the ones that were on the floor were already gone – a fast one that Wail.

A cough – “Well. While you were indisposed with who knows what, I was busy actually doing something practical – hunting down monsters and counting the loot. I must say – after that little ritual of ours, I somehow feel quite a bit stronger. I heal much quicker and it hurts less when I get hit” – He continued. Indeed, he was oblivious after all. Or he was simply mocking Wail - again. By the looks of it, Wail probably thought of the latter as his frown deepened even more – you could even barely see his yellow teeth now, since his lips were twisting into something like a snarl. Surprisingly– it quickly changed into a wide, crooked smile. Something obviously brightened up his mood – brushing all that blazing irritation away in the blink of an eye. Which was scarier - the frown or the smile, was up for debate of course.

“Well isn’t that just great! I’m super happy you spent your time in a positive and productive manner while I was away”- Wail started, his smile gaining a slightly insane look – “Now then, I guess you’re about to show me today’s haul, right? After all, what’s yours is mine. Right?”- He finished, the sneer frozen in anticipation - radiating in an unpleasant and threatening way. Even Bob could sense it. A little bit at least. Not enough by the looks of it, as he raised one eyebrow – overdoing it quite a bit, since it only made him look slightly weird. Disfigured even – the two were so alike.

“But what is yours, is mine as well. Thus, I don’t see why I should share the fruits of my sweaty, blood-soaked labor, when you don’t share yours” – Like a pouting child, frowning, lips sealed shut, arms-crossed and head turned slightly to the side. If Wail had any motherly feelings, he might have thought Bob looked adorable. He didn’t though.

Wail had other methods to resolve little childish conflicts such as these. Years of experience, maturity of a young adult and a little fire. Mostly the fire.

A few seconds passed – the corridor suddenly lit up and Wail’s smile finally reverted into a true sinister sneer – one with quite a few drops of “coo-coo” in it.

“Look. If you’re going to cause trouble, I’ll grill you real good - and use you to reduce my satiety. I’m running low on bread - of which I’m really getting sick of. Sick enough to try out something a little… exotic”- a barely visible frown now replaced the sneer, eyes almost glaring at the poor lad. Wail seemed to be quite serious – “Now open your god damn inventory”

Bob got the hint – the intent carried along splendidly as he extended his hand towards Wail, with all the valuables. That smoothed out their conflict nicely – the wonders of communication.

“Let’s get this straight early on - I’m the one with half a year of experience in economy. Thus I'll be the one who manages our mutual possessions. Got it?” -Since Wail’s hand was still held in a threatening manner - a round chunk of fire dancing around in it, Bob could not object. A forced nod and they were the best of buddies once again.

Quite a bit later - numerous blazing skeletons illuminated the monotonous stretches of the dark corridors Wail and Bob traversed. Denying the very reason they were named as such - with only a lonely and ragged "corridor" remaining. Seems like the two were encountering numerously larger gatherings of these restless anorexia plagued individuals. Sure, Wail loved shinny coins. Experience? Yes please. Especially when it's doubled.

Yet - their numbers had been increasing at a threatening rate, which unsettled Wail quite a bit. Quite a bit indeed. Imagining hundreds of skeletons as large loot and experience filled bags made his mouth water. Thus he patiently used Soul Syphon and stacked up on souls, conserved mana and even summoned five minions. Not a very impressive bunch - a poor excuse for a copy. Seems like the spell simply used the nearest soulless body as material - no matter the state of it. At one point Wail had to manually shut down a minion - with the help of his slipper. Cruel? Very much so. But there's only so much use half of a skeleton can be. Not the upper one either. How the spell itself functioned was beyond Wails comprehensive abilities.

It did seem like the summoned skeletons were a poor excuse for minion material. By the looks of it, they were barely holding together - and one of them didn't even have an arm. Another headscratcher. How the increased health worked in this particular case was incomprehensible. At this point, Wail decided to avoid thinking about it all together - as not to overextend his mental capabilities.

An opportunity to try out Soul Link also presented itself - as Wail tried out activating it with Bob. A peculiar result, to be sure.

You have received 35 shared physical damage.

Messages like this kept on popping up every time Bob received hits from enemies. Seems like half of the damage got transferred to Wail - the original amount being 70 in this case. Quite the useful skill - when Wail was the one taking the hits at least. Now? Somehow, the situation seemed weird. This was definitely not the kind of gain Wail enjoyed receiving.

Still. In certain extreme situations - even this might prove useful.

"We must be getting near the treasure room" - Bob mumbled while hacking a nearby skeleton’s leg off. Seeing him squirming on the floor, while trying to continue the assault on this arrogant fleshly figure, amused Wail a great deal. Not enough to miss a chance to disagree with someone though.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that..." - He grumpily commented, after accidentally setting his own minion on fire – a minion that decided to jump in front at the worst possible moment. Luckily, the enemy skeleton displayed a similar degree of refinement. Bumping into this unexpected hindrance and catching on fire as well. Seems like his limited supply of luck was being spent on something insignificant once again. That and this pathetic gathering of shambling bones annoyed Wail absurdly. Not only were they almost useless in a fight - three of his minions could barely beat up one enemy. Barely - and even that relied heavily on luck. Their path-finding abilities were also a thing to be dissatisfied with. Most of them kept on slamming into everything that was in their way. Usually each other, or some wall. It’s not like they traveled some sort of winding path either.

By the time Wail and Bob reached their presumed destination - every single one of the minions were missing at least some body part. Luckily - those were usually arms. Though that’s mainly because Wail exercised patience - by stomping out anyone who'd slow down the party. Quite literally.

Looking on the bright side - his summoning skills leveled up. Seems like the longer he kept his minions active, the greater the experience gain. So at least some good came out of the whole journey. That and Wail was looking down on a whole swarm of skeletons - all situated in an oval chamber, the floor descending down in a stair like fashion.

Wail disliked large groups. Very much. Every single one within - brimming with baseless confidence, gotten by being a part of the majority. Many against the few. Right against wrong. Because the majority was always right. Always won. If an idea is supported by a larger number of people - it's automatically correct. Didn't matter that it might actually be wrong - what mattered was that many agreed with it. Quite a few memories surfaced from deep within Wail’s psyche - where he had ended up in similar situations. Obviously - in every single one of them he was talked down by a larger gathering of "like-minded" individuals. Or made fun of. Or blamed for something he had nothing to do. He could go on forever. His bitterness had no bounds. Wail was sick and tired of it though. Sure, he might not have the power to turn the tide. He might be a shy, awkward, even socially impaired individual - but Wail will be getting his long awaited revenge.

Today Wail would finally prevail against the majority. Today is the day to get revenge for every single one of those few - who suffered at the hands of the many. Though, truth be told he was just doing it for his own sake. A symbolic gesture. For all those times everyone pointed fingers at him and laughed for thinking differently. For all those times the girls made fun of him for trying to get a date. For all those weird looks and sneers. For everything. Oh, he would take it all out on this completely unrelated and innocent group of undead. A group that was quickly advancing towards his location.

“Shit” - Wail mumbled under his nose, as Bob pulled on his arm, hastening their long over-due retreat.

From the very depths of the huge chamber the army flocked towards Wail. Like a bunch of overly devoted believers, rushing towards the reincarnation of their messiah. A threatening sight, to be sure. Wail was about to high-tail it out of there. That is - until he saw how hard it was for the poor skeletons to actually climb up. First a few tripped. Then a few more tripped over the first ones. Then…well, a hilarious chain reaction started. By the end of it - portion of the army was crushed beneath the weight of those above, and the rest got stuck inside each other.

Seeing this opportunity, Bob jumped in for some action, with the uncontrollable group of brittle minions’ way ahead - though only one of the bunch made it. The rest? Tripped and shattered against the rock hard steps.

A complete anti-climate. Wail smacked his forehead a few times, making sure to put plenty of strength into the arm. Once he realized that this was not some sick inception type dream - he decided to at least use this opportunity to level up Soul Syphon. A few seconds of casting and a black mist materialized above the skeletal armada. An unmoving skeletal armada. Wail smacked his forehead once again - just for good measure.

Steadily, the flawless white complexion turned into grey - as the mist steadily settled on the undead. Covering their bodies that have long forgotten what it is to feel. To hurt. By the looks of it, none of them were affected by the spell - thought it was hard to tell. Since they continuously struggled to break free. To continue their hopelessly failed assault.

Those that did not get stuck on the other hand - were being hacked down one by one. All at the hands of his trusted minion - Bob. Wail could not help but admire his usefulness while walking around the chamber, searching for anything meaningful. There had to be a point as to why this army was stationed here.

Didn’t take long to find one. A mangled body. Ruined items scattered to all directions. Poor quality. Just like a broke bandit. Indeed, this was probably the remains of Bob’s former companion. Since Wail never considered them as such. No attachments. No feelings towards the deceased. That cold-hearted Wail - staying true to his unlikable self.

Not much remained of the fellow. It’s quite possible that he caused enough of a racket to lure all these skeletons down here. He never did seem like the brightest fellow. Though how the skeletons managed to safely descend down here remained a mystery. One of many Alternative Reality sheltered.

A quick side-glance and Wail found the most likely bandit’s destination - a ladder that went up right into the ceiling. Another disappointment. Sure, Wail probably found a way to the upper levels. Yet, he did expect something a little more extravagant. A spiraling set of stairs, with luxurious engravings all over. A modern elevator which would have absolutely no place in the lore of this reality. All he got though - was a simple iron ladder. Sticking out of the floor, right in the middle of the hall. Not to mention that the way up seemed to be quite a long one. Completely not to Wail’s tastes. Though, since there was no other way up to his knowledge, it would just have to do.