Georges is tired of life.

Youth dynamic who has already restored 3 houses he bought and then sold, he exhausted himself at work, and went up to getting hospitalized.

Despite forced rest, he wanted to benefit from the virtual fitness program assisted by virtual reality.

Alter Life was at this moment the last available virtual world, so he hurried to create an avatar in this world.

Tempted by a resumption of activity in an intense mode, his coaches quickly made him understand he needed much rest.

Tired by the morn and monotone life of virtual big cities, then isolated small villages, and finally walks in the countryside with no battle against monsters, Georges chose the undead world.

Matching with his mood, he chose to become a mummy in the small underground lost village of Komyshany.

Who knows this village?

Nobody, but those who appeared their as they connected with an avatar.

Deprived of the possibility to do individual quest by the system, to force him to stay calm, Georges spent most of his time looking at the lake and at characters living around.

Most of the players never come back to the village, it’s simply a starting point to them, not a place where they want to live.

But recently, two players invested quite much around.

Scan

Jean

Reaper level 6

Health points : 157/157

Mana points : 173/173

Scan

Jules

Ghoul level 6

Health points : 217/217

Mana points : 121/121

And the weirdest with them, it’s those slimes following them.

But mostly…

They unlocked a collective quest, not an individual one!

***

To get around the rules…

This is Georges speciality.

Barely did the two players leave from the NPC responsible for the quests, Georges went to see him.

“What is it, this collective quest?’

“We need to get a new chapel built in our village, on the place of the Necros altar.”

A chapel…

Georges saw tens of different chapels in big cities and in the countryside, of different races.

The biggest he saw was a basilica for Phôs, the light idol.

But it wouldn’t word here: each idol has its specific universe.

Necros is a dark idol, using black stones, and bitumen to make everything hold together.

“Can I participate on this quest?”

“Of course! No restriction on this one! Go on get help by as many people as possible, and transform Komyshany!”

“Excellent!”

Those two play who made Georges leave his torpor have to be congratulated.

A challenge!

But the players already left…

Never mind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, undead, or not quite yet, hour has come to invest yourself in our beloved village! We have to build a new chapel!”

Several players got closer, interested to see Georges make an announcement.

“I’m an architect, and I know exactly what has to be done to achieve this quest! We need tar, available on the surface, at the fisher village. We also need pickaxes, available at the dwarf village. And people to use them!”

And that’s how the chapel construction organizes itself.

***

Pryozerne village is a small fisher village that suffers for a few weeks from undead attacks.

As they come to the village, usually at the beginning of the night, fishers take their family with them and climb into boats.

Usually, undead use the tools, steal a few items, but they don’t care about assaulting fishers.

Pets, yes.

So, no dog, nor breeding animal.

Fishers seriously think about moving to another place, but as they reported to the local lord, Kherson baron, the undead attacks, they hope a military intervention can free them.

This night, though, a weird phenomenon occurred.

Zombies and ghosts gathered around the tar oven.

Arrived with resin and root buckets, as well as wood to feed the oven, they began to use the oven.

One of the fishers, responsible of the caulking of hulls, this means putting tar on the boats hulls to prevent the water to come into the boats, got really surprised to see those creatures of the night use his oven.

Worried to see those unknown people badly use his precious work tool, he left wife and children, took the plunge, and called the undead.

“Hola! That’s not the way to use this oven!”

Hustling a zombie who let it go, and pushing aside a mummy in passing, he took the place of a ghost, and with a wooden stick, began to stir the mix of root and resin.

“Here, slowly. It’s a job, it can’t be improvized!”

Putting a hand on his shoulder, a zombie looked at him straight in his eyes, brought closer his mouth to his jaw.

“Help! Mamma!”

***

Have you ever received a zombie kiss?

Not only from a zombie, but also from each and every ghost present this night, the tar maker received a kiss.

Stinking for the first one, freezing for the following.

But at least, the tar is ready!

“Here we go, kiddoes, this is the way to do it! And next time, warn before coming. You can bring your resin, your roots, and your wood for the preparation. I will get paid in raw materials, don’t worry!

Mummy roar.

« Mmmeummmoh ! »

Not exactly the sound of a cow, but quite the same.

The undead left with their buckets still hot, filled with tar, and sticks to toss.

Fisher men came back with their family on the bank.

“Whouh, you got us so afraid! We all thought you would never leave from it alive!”

“Me too, during a moment, I thought I would die! But noting is as important as a work correctly done. I’m proud of my tar, and I think that those creatures will be satisfied of the result!”

“I think it’s the first time I hear about a collaboration between undead and humans. But the dark mages, of course. Do you think they will come back?”

“If they need tar, of course! I think we got ourselves new clients!”

“I’d like to know what they will do with their tar…”

“Curious guy! If you want to know that much, just go with them!”

“Thanks, not really…”

What a night, at Pryozerne...

***

Inzhenerne is a dwarf camp, at the limit between the outside world and the underground world.

Dwarves fight for a long time against undead from the place around, but they always stay on the defensive.

Lately, undead do more outings.

Some occult adepts even come to barter.

This night, under the moonlight, several of them come to get pickaxes.

“Hola, friends of the deads! I hope you have something interesting to propose in exchange!”

“What would interest you?”

“You don’t have a few pretty stones at the bottom of your caves? Or monsters cores? Maybe a little bit or fur or food?”

“Galleries in which we live are surprisingly poor in resources. But I have a few rabbits, caught with traps. They are all fresh! We just killed them!”

“Mmh… two pickaxes.”

“Three!”

“Don’t you have a few monsters cores?”

“I have four of small golems. It shines in the dark, it’s useful.”

“And I caught an ibex. I can give you its monster core.”

“Nice, three pickaxes, then!”

“Excellent, we will return do business!”

“Don’t come back too soon, nor too often. Other dwarves are not really happy of your presence here. And humans are more and more hostile and violent. If they see you around, they will have a good pretext to attack us.”

“No problem, we will be discreet! Thanks again!”

As the adepts moved away, the dwarf looked at them leaving.

What a night, at Inzhenerne !