Oh the Undead just Want to Have Fun

Arc 1: Off we go

“Boss, Boss, Boss. We should rethink this.” Uno was trying to keep pace as I rushed through the stronghold. I went around the place, supervising my companions in packing and gathering luggage.

“What should we rethink about this? We’ve been here for a thousand years! Nothing is keeping us in here anyway. In the first place, the only reason we stayed here is because we didn’t know what would happen if we had this power for long.” I shrugged Uno off. I stepped into the treasury room and watched the mindless minions gather chests of gold at the stronghold’s entrance.

“You may have a point, but we don’t know what’s out there! Although no one has attacked us for a long time, people would, without a doubt, still hate the undead! Which, by sheer coincidence, we are!” UNo was trying to stop me, but I was insistent.

“Yes, yes. The risk. But life is a gamble!” I chuckled as I helped one of my companions carry a chest. It was the master chef of the stronghold; though she was skilled in knife works, she was pretty clumsy when it came to heavy labor like this.

The halls were being swept, the furniture was being stored, and my men sealed the doors. Even my humble throne was being locked with the rest.

“You’re not going to tour around as an undead! Whether you like it or not, people will attack you!” Uno tried to flank me with his impressive points.

 

However, you underestimated me, fool!

“I’ve thought of an impressive disguise,” I retaliated with my stronger and more impressive points.

“Impressive disguise? Is this another one of your dumb ideas, Boss?” Uno scratched his skull and sighed.

“Beor! Show me my disguise!” I shouted to one of the skeletons carrying around a crate. He took out pieces of cloth and a metal mask and then gave them to me. I showed Uno with a triumphant look.

“I am right! This is one of your dumb ideas!” Uno snapped at me.

“Hold on; you’re jumping horses here, Uno. Watch the magic,” I said as I put on a hood matching the color of my white robes. I slid the mask onto my skeletal face and turned to Sarjay. I started flexing around and swung my arm around.

“Impressive, huh?” I boasted to Uno. He gave himself a facepalm and then contemplated about his life for a minute. 

With a breath, he replied, “No. Not really.”

“Tsk. Tsk. Look closely. Would an undead really go around wearing fresh white robes? I think not! Every undead except us has a terrible sense of fashion. It’s common sense.” I shrugged my shoulders.

I looked around as most of my companions were also starting to put on white robes and anything to cover their faces. Some chose very large hoods, some scarves around their heads, and some chose metal masks like mine. The white hood tightened around the head concealed our skulls, with an amulet with my insignia around our humble robe.

My companions also wore thin metal shoulder pads akin to mine, which served more as decoration than defense. Though my companions chose to wear leather gloves, I wore white gloves made from the silk of a forgotten beast. Comfy - knowing it stretches and deflects magic bolts!

Of course, not all of my companions wore robes; the more inclined to wear armor simply wore their armor over their robes or just wore more armor. The widely decorated varieties of robes and armor-over-robe gave a beautiful sense of individuality, which was uncommon among the undead. On the other hand, I humbled myself with plain white robes, choosing only to wear my amulet as my only accessory.

Tied around my waist was a sheathed sword decorated with a beautiful symbol on its hilt. This sword had been taken from a stray adventurer group one or two decades ago. The sword broke Uno’s sword in an epic duel between the strongest in the group and him, but eventually, Sarjay won by catching the enemy off-guard by throwing his skull at his opponent. Although I tried to give the sword to Sarjay to replace it, he had a grudge against the sword and attempted to destroy it until my other lieutenants insisted I keep it instead.

But the sword was indeed high quality. For an adventurer group to possess such a sword, was it just by chance and fate they had it? Or does the outside world all have high-quality weapons? The answer wasn’t definitive, as the rest of the adventurers’ equipment was poor.

‘Fatebinder’ - The name engraved upon the sword. I liked the tone of it. Uno...not so much. I tightened the belt around my waist to keep it from falling from my bony body and continued to observe the packing process.

Small dog-like beasts ran amok the stronghold, trying to carry as much goods as they could. Skeletons were moving crates and luggage everywhere. I smiled as I enjoyed the sight of it all. The stronghold hadn’t been so busy since it was first attacked a few hundred years ago. 

Recently, we’ve grown so lethargic.

But who wouldn’t be energetic? A thousand years of sitting around would make one really want some good old breath of fresh air. Moreover, one should really go and see how much the outside world changed. Not many could get a chance like this.

Eventually, we finished moving all the things we had to move. It took us two days to fix everything. Everyone gathered at the entrance, with the large pool of treasure just piled up near it.

I counted; perhaps a hundred or more of us are here. Skeletons, beasts, and such were gathered; it probably looked like an undead army about to invade a city. Well, it wasn’t far off. We were about to invade the tourist spots of every place, after all!

“Ah….huh. It’s been a thousand years. Thank you all for sticking around with me for so long,” I started my announcement. Everyone had been eagerly waiting for my departure farewells. It would be suspicious to have a hundred or so robed men with knights running around in one area, so we agreed that we’d all tour the world separately.

Everyone had their cup of tea, of course. Some wanted to see the beaches, some wanted to see their homeland, some...some had dreams.

Although most of my companions were skeletons that had been my vassals for the last thousand years, some of the companions were either late-comers or created by me. One of such was the abomination, Ts’tsku’Rook, whom we nicknamed ‘Rookie’ because we couldn’t pronounce his name.

He was created when we had left some food to rot in our stronghold, partially because we didn’t need to eat and partially because of our chef. Eventually, the rotten food gained sentience and got stronger as it fed on animals in the nearby forest. He would come and go, but he usually stayed with us for long periods.

“So...ugh...ts...ts….Rookie, what are your plans? It will be a long time before our vacations end,” I asked Rookie.

“Me…” He let out a deep, gasping voice. His voice and presence emanated death and despair. His every gasp tied to his every victim, his sorrow and anguish for being unable to control himself from killing. His forgotten memories all gambled up. What could his dream be?

“I would like to finish my PhD in Mathematical Elemental Theory,” Rookie replied.

“Oh! That’s wonderful! Which magic academy are you going to? Assuming that academy still exists,” I inquired him.

“Perhaps in the Vallen Empire...My choices should be weighed upon the credibility of the educational institution. I am, of course, a being of logic,” He replied.

A sound man. I liked his idea. “Well, good luck, Rookie. I hope we meet somewhere someday. Then we’ll have to call you Dr. Rookie, right? Ha ha!”

I laughed along with Rookie and all my companions.

Even Rookie had plans for his future. Life seemed rather peaceful; perhaps, in our tours, we could all find something that could inspire us for greater achievements. With this in mind, I continued my farewell speech. 

“Everyone, though we will separate for a long time. Perhaps months, years. Or even decades. Just remember that we’re all in each other’s hearts.”

My speech went on about safety, how they shouldn’t fear anything or such, and that I hoped they would get to see what they wanted. Eventually, I ended with, “Let’s get ourselves a well-deserved rest!”

Everyone cheered and had a small party. I had no use for much treasure, so I had it divided evenly among everyone. Although some insisted that I take a larger share, Uno warned the companions about my questionable spending habits and that I would be happier with an equal share.

Well...I don’t have questionable spending habits, alright?

Once the party ended, groups of undead started separating, moving to distant places or without any direction. I don’t have any fear for them; they were capable enough to fight off hardened adventurers for centuries.

But, it’s kind of heart-warming; it’s like seeing your children off.

“Now, Boss. Before you think it’s like seeing your children off, you should remember that you’re the ‘child’ among us,” Uno commented.

“Hey! Just because I tend to cause a bit more trouble doesn’t mean that I’m not fit for the description of a mature adult,” I defended.

“Yeah, yeah, Boss. Where are we headed off to now? I heard there’s a road far north from here. Since we’re one of the first groups to head out, we should go that way. Perhaps there’s a city,” Uno suggested.

Uno, a few other companions, and I were going together in a group. Although some were coming with me because they were madly loyal, the rest just came along because they thought I would attract the most fun.

Whatever that meant...