"Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides."

-Lao Tzu

We approached the exit, and Rich held up the keystone once again. The door melted away and we entered the hallway. Upon reaching the main temple area, father Silas greeted us.

“Ah, I see once again that my favorite guild has surprised me! You’ve reanimated these skeletons?” He asked.

“Yeah, aren’t you kind of against that?” Rich responded. I was curious to hear Silas’ answer.

“I respect life and death as equal parts of a grand cycle. Two sides of the same coin, life and death magic are simply a turning of the wheel, one direction or the other. After all, even Life spells can restore life to a corpse. I will not judge you for reanimating old bones or even the corpses of fallen foes. I would ask that you not use the bones of the recently deceased, but I will not interfere with your proceedings.”

I took a step forward. “Silas, I appreciate your support. But know this: you could no more stray us from our course than you could stop the sun from rising,” I clapped my hands together, “Now for happier topics, Silas, what positions could our guild occupy that would benefit the town?”

A grave look occupied Silas’ face at my implied threat, but he pondered my question.

“You could take up the position of Adventurers Guild. You’d be responsible for the security of the town, and you’d be available for odd-jobs. Regular guilds can receive quests and jobs, but you’d be paid by the government rather in addition to the pay for the job. I suppose you could take up the Administrator’s Aid position, but it’s extremely boring. Lastly, there’s the Mercenaries Guild. That guild is probably most like what you’d enjoy: handling guards and occasionally an illegal job.

Perfect! Not only would this set us up to handle all illicit activities, but it would also put us into the perfect position to host a coup. By controlling the guards, we’d effectively control the only armed force in the town! I conferred with my group, then quickly agreed that the mercenary position sounded like the best fit.

“I figured you’d say that. If you visit the town hall, you can go ahead and register as the guild. You’ll also be granted access to the communitable.”

“What’s a communicable,” Greg asked.

“My apologies, I sometimes forget that what you immortals find new, we take for granted! A communitable is a long-range communication device. Every town has one or two, and cities have even more. They are mainly used by government officials or guild officials to convey messages at near-instantaneous speed.”

This was a game changer. The lack of a social interface meant that there wasn’t a fast way to talk to other players. The communitable was the hub of information, and we’d need to secure control of it in order to cement our dominance over the town. Thinking about a coup sent another worry surging through my mind.

“Silas, what level are the guards usually?” I asked.

“Usually around fifth or sixth level,” he replied dismissively, “The guard force is more of a symbol than an actual military. That’s why we welcome immortals! Stories tell of a time long ago when the immortals came to our realm temporarily. Whenever an immortal entered the world, the surrounding area experienced a huge boon to productivity and standard-of-living! The immortals face danger we don’t want to, and often think about long-term goals more than the common man. Even now, you’ve demonstrated how helpful you are! That crypt has sat untouched for over a century. Nobody has been brave or powerful enough to touch it until now! I’d do it myself, but my position requires a great deal of inaction in the name of neutrality.” His explanation caused me to pause.

“Silas, what level are you?” I asked.

“Me? I’m level 35,” he responded. I had to hide the shock on my face. Level 35?! Assuming there was the usual exponential experience system, Silas had over 10,000,000 experience! Being level 9, I had less than 2,000. The sheer size of the gap between our power filled me with dread, but also a bit of hope. Didn’t Silas say that he was practically inactive? Surely the harder monsters rewarded far greater amounts of experience! Having reassured myself, I turned to the others.

“Are you guys ready to head over to the town hall and register?” I asked. Everyone assented, so we marched out of the temple and headed towards the largest building visible; the ornate front marked it as the town hall. As I walked, a white-clad figure burst into view. Twin blades whipped toward me, and lunged backward to avoid the attack; I wasn’t fast enough, and my health dropped by 30% as searing pain flashed across my chest. I fell back onto the ground as my assailant moved forward to finish me off.

Suddenly, a ball of flame burst against his linen shirt, knocking him back a few steps. Aaron lunged forward and stabbed the man through the stomach, eliciting a cry of pain. A pleasant feeling surged through my body as Rich healed me. A shouted command sent my skeleton bodyguards circling out, protecting our small group. I shot to my feet and inspected the incapacitated bandit. He growled at me, and coughed digital blood before speaking.

“You think you can make a guild, then have it specifically labeled as evil, and not expect negative repercussions? You’re out of your mind! A week ago, I was 84 years old and a retired police officer. I worked with a lot of guys that fell somewhere in the grey area, but when you enter into a world with black and white guidelines like this, and you’re put into that category… Well, let’s just say you’ve made a lot of enemies. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s dozens of guilds forming up right now just to come kick your ass…” I waited for his tirade to end.

“Rich, can you heal him real quick?” I asked.

“Sure, but I don’t see why I should,” he replied. Tom got my point in a moment, and began to protest.

“Nathan-”

“Zero,” I interrupted. I wanted to make a new name for myself, and it needed a bit of pizzazz in order to be a good villain. I mean, what sounds better: Nathan the Necromancer or Zero, Ruler of Undeath? The answer was clear.

“Okay, Zero, I don’t think you need to make an example of him. Our actions were bound to attract the ire of some heroes.”

I ignored his small-minded protest and snapped my fingers. One of my cursed skeletons slammed a sharpened claw into my foe’s chest, dragging him towards the town hall. The man screamed as blood streamed down his chest, staining his shirt. Townspeople and players alike ran out into the streets, gasping in horror at what was happening. A large man and smaller woman brandished weapons, the woman casting a mana bolt in my direction. It hit the skeleton with the captive, but my minion shrugged it off, and the barrage of spells launched by Gabriel, Rich, and I quickly dispatched the girl. The man sprinted forward, tackling Aaron to the ground with a thud. An arrow sprouted from his neck as Drew leapt onto his back, stabbing him with daggers. Throughout it all, I walked forward at a constant pace. I didn’t blink as I cast my [Mana Bolt], and I didn’t pause as the man barrelled towards us. I kept my gaze locked onto the town hall as we marched forward. As I walked, I cast [Animate Corpse] twice. The mage girl got to her feet and joined the procession, as did the man-brute. I laughed at the expressions of horror on the faces of most players, and took note of those that displayed only sick fascination; they would be useful later.

Finally, we reached an open area in front of the town hall. An Identify revealed that our captive had a mere 20 health remaining. My minion threw him onto the ground, keeping a skeletal claw clamped onto his shoulder in order to prevent escape.

“Good people of Darnley!” I shouted, “this man has attacked the only guild around, a guild that has sworn to protect this town and its inhabitants. We have sworn to treat immortals and the rest of you the same, but this man opposes that mission. He thinks that a guiding hand should be chopped off! But if the guiding hand we offer is refused, it becomes an iron fist. Let this be a warning to any who think to oppose us or this town: we will destroy you.”

With my final statement, Aaron strode forward and neatly decapitated the man. As his head rolled across the ground, we marched into the town hall. The inside of the town hall was larger than I expected. It had a large first level, with a receptionist sitting in front of three doors. A stairway on the side walls led up to a walkway with another three doors on a second level. As we entered, the receptionist stood up abruptly, obviously having witnessed the scene outside through the windows.

“We’d like to register for the mercenary position,” I announced. She gave a hasty nod and ran up the stairs to the second level. A moment later, an old man emerged from an upstairs room and walked to the balcony.

“Greetings, gentlemen. I understand you’d like to take up the mercenary guild position.” It wasn’t a question. I bowed deeply and flashed him a smile.

“Let’s begin with negotiations.”