Note: Changing Davarose's speech to 'text' since he technically can't be heard. I don't know, it might add some clarity to the dialogue.
As Terem approached the two men on duty, they called out.
"Halt! What business do you have with us, the proud citizens of Verim?" The one who spoke was a grizzled middle-aged man with a scar running across his left eye all the way to his dirt-stained beard. The other guard's appearance was the exact opposite: a youthful face, sharp straight nose, and neatly trimmed hair with no beard.
Terem smiled at the men before speaking. "I'm but a simple wanderer. While traveling, I encountered a bandit gang and have come to seek shelter within your village if you would permit me." To accompany the honeyed words, Terem gracefully crossed his feet and leaned forward into a slight bow: enough to be considered formal, but not deep enough to show deep respect. The formal etiquette, however, had a clear effect upon the guards as they puffed out their chests to better display their dominance over the village. Along with this, Terem was rightfully suspicious of the somewhat well-dressed guards standing outside the clearly impoverished town.
Just as the guards were prideful, Terem wasn't stupid. He believed that the guards would probably attempt to swindle him, but he had no idea why they would. He clearly had nothing of value on him if he had anything worth noticing at all.
But he decided to play along with the guards for the time being.
"Great, now we couldn't possibly tax a poor wanderer such as yourself so please come in, I'll escort you around." The grizzled guard professionally spun on his heels and marched into the town, signaling for Terem to follow.
'Suspicious.' Terem was slightly repulsed at the guard's behavior and blocky face, but they were obviously well within expectations, the behavior part at least. Finally, Davarose spoke up with pride.
'So, are you satisfied with the quality of my subjects yet? Possibly awed, humbled, or maybe even astonished?' The lich was clearly getting ahead of himself if he prided himself on maintaining this sorry excuse for living conditions.
'By subjects do you mean test subjects? To be honest I'm surprised there are people here at all so I'll pick astonished. Anything else I should know before I get too far?'
'Of course. Now, this is something between you and me, but find a man named Tom Harig. He should prove useful.'
'Alright, will do.'
Terem didn't bother to ask what Tom Harig had done to be remembered by an archlich nor did he ask who Tom would prove useful for since it would obviously be the lich. Instead, he simply followed the constable down the uneven main road further into the forlorn and forgotten city.
"Come to think of it, who is the lord of this city, sir..."
"Sir Prentan, constable and honorable knight within this town. We have fought many monsters attempting to maintain the city, but we've had a poor harvest this year along with incidences of disappearing civilians."
Terem knew the guard was blatantly lying about the monster attacks and possibly even the harvest, but he didn't know much about the disappearing people so he decided to ask his flabby tongued source.
'Davarose, did you kidnap people from this village?' And, of course, he received a self-righteous reply.
'Didn't you pay attention to me earlier? I said your poor ugly mother came from this rotten village! Of course, I'm involved in the missing people incidents! Can't you take a hint, brat?'
Chuckling at Davarose's idiocy and toying with the idea of delaying his lich extraction endeavor, he looked around the village. Like the guard had said, it really was poor and in a sorry state. Except what the guard neglected to say was that his words were exceedingly understated.
House roofs, if not dried mud already, were covered in dirt, leaves, and a few rotten beams that creaked under their own weight. Each villager had bags under their eyes that could have been either grime or overwork.
He had seen pigstyes worse than these people's living conditions and the pigs looked better to boot, but what truly should have been heartwrenching was the state of the children. They wore nothing at all and were covered in grime like many of the adults, but each of their eyes was filled with distrust. Lazers brimming with spite and malice bore into any person who stepped within five feet of the children. Their own parents were not spared in the slightest and, in many cases, the intense hatred was exponentially worse.
Averting his gaze towards a small side alley that ran between two nearly collapsing houses, Terem spied a little girl clutching a small sparrow while staring at an old man who staggered by. Suddenly, the crazed oldtimer swept his hand at the bird, nabbing it before he tried to bolt away. He didn't run two feet before the child latched onto his ankle and bit into his tendon. The girl soon had scrambled across the fallen man's back and had begun to claw at his face, drawing lines of red everywhere her hands found flesh. Before long, the man fell limp as the girl reclaimed her prize. However, the fallen man had defended the little morsel till his end.
Of course, none of this bothered Terem. He was used to killing and death. These people were just trying to survive, whether they be young or old. What truly perturbed him was the state of the village as a whole.
'Disgusting. It's a wonder you ever found someone like my mother in this trash heap. Also, you should kill yourself.' Terem spoke in measured phrases, his steadfast nerves properly conveying his apathetic feelings.
'Trash heap? Just so you know, it's not my fault. Swine like you live in the sty. I shouldn't need to give them any more than the generosity I've already shown them for allowing them to contribute to my research.' Hearing this, Terem decided to mock Davarose a bit more.
'Oh yeah? To me, it sounds like you're scared of them. Are you afraid these pigs might unite and form an uprising in the name of equal pay from under your nose? I mean, you even eliminated the economy. How thoroughly frightened could you possibly be of mere swine?' Terem thought he had infused enough sarcasm into his answer to elicit some slip of the tongue or response, but he realized too late that the undead of another world probably had no clue about classic English literature and just as he expected, the lich barged on.
'Equal pay? Do you think pigs are smart enough to handle money? Don't make me laugh, brat.'
Terem rolled his eyes and decided to end the conversation there.
While the two were exchanging insults, Prentan was bringing them progressively closer to a somewhat well-maintained manor house. Obviously, this building likely belonged to the local lord.
As the group approached the iron hinged gate, two guards saluted to Prentan and let the group pass without questions.
Inside the manor's gate, a whole new scene played out. A green lawn with small well-trimmed hedges surrounded the smooth walkway. Bare-skinned servants shambled alongside the gardens, clippers in hand. Together, they appeared to be a horde of zombies, but something else was off about them. Looking them up and down, Terem failed to notice anything out of place.
Shrugging, he continued down the path with Prentan until they arrived in front of the manor. Before Terem could climb the stairs to the door a booming voice sounded from above.
"Now which bastard would be daring enough to approach my manor uninvited, eh?"
Searching for the source of the voice, Terem was compelled to look upwards towards the house's balcony, directly above the door. Leaning on the railing, a man glowered down from on high reminding Terem of a certain judge he had met in his past life. Except, unlike that judge, this man had the proper power to back his superiority.
Terem unconsciously stepped back as the man let out a sliver of his vast killing intent.
"So, which one of you was it? And don't make me ask again."