The current state of the place was also due to the "Mayor's" henchmen. The walls, once home to pieces of art, were stained with gruesome graffiti, desecrating their peaceful home.
They didn't allow it to be changed, and they worked many of the Inhabitants to death. The only way the people native to Swillberg could respect their memory was to add their names to the graffiti, which elicited scorn from the Participants. And every day, they had to report their quota to these hateful people…
Yet lately, even the henchmen were becoming ever more bolder. Some buff undead muscled their way into the level, demanding an extra portion of the gains from the floor. CCW-Stemmer must've overlooked it to keep them in line…
And on that day, no less than three days ago, the little skeleton resurfaced from the saltmine. As they saw the short figure hustle about, carrying several shards of salt crystal…
They walked up to it, demanding for a "portion." The skeleton tilted its head, confused. Then, when one of the goons punched it in its chest, its movements seemed to become a bit exuberant.
Its yellow gloved fingers pierced through their eyes with quick, misty flashes. A brief conflict after, the skeleton easily dispatched the sloppy fighting the goons displayed, aiming for their vitals and plucking away their eyes.
That day, the Inhabitants began to respect and cherish the little skeleton, some even going as far as to venerate it as a guardian deity.
But Dugraff was conflicted.
Because the Inhabitants in The Wettened Woods were not allowed to attack the Participants…
Even if the skeleton were a Participant, this would be fine to him. But if it were true, then more potent henchmen of Stemmer would appear, wanting to identify the interloper in their operation.
Mark Dugraff doubted the Reapers would be kind to the skeleton, who would seem like an unsightly mob to them. Even he thought the skeleton was a Husk, even though he didn't hate those entities either. They were simply poor bodies who lost their souls to The Boundary…
Mark leaned back in his rusted carbon chair, his hands mulling his beard.
A woman with a decaying yet beautiful face and blue hair that ended in curly wisps busted into the office. Her face locked into a scowl, and she leaned against the wall as she attempted to calm herself down.
"Boss, we need you right now. Those bastards are demanding to see our Skelly!"
The woman stated tersely, running away from the opened doorway. Dugraff's face was stuck in place, shock surging down his spine as he hurriedly shot upwards.
....
[Please note: It seems your fellow Participants are becoming hostile. Remember to protect yourself.]
Mara sat back and sighed, stilling her rapidly fluctuating heart. She was greatly relieved that the skeleton didn't manage to get into much trouble so far, only having a minor skirmish the one time.
She was quite worried about the influence other Participants would have on the skeleton, who didn't exhibit any concrete thoughts. Instead, it seemed to do whatever was offered to it, only rarely striking out on its own due to its proclivity towards inquiring about its surroundings.
Mara had tried to communicate with the skeleton in various ways, though it was still quite limited in the number of messages it could alter and send. However, the skeleton didn't simply wave away the panels, taking time to try and read the contents.
Yet it still didn't act on what it seemed to surmise. How could it? If it lacked thoughts, all it ran on was desire. The information it processed merely sat in its empty skull, unmoving.
Ting! Scrrrtch.
The skeleton finished mining for a bit and started running its gloved digits along the wall. A slight depression formed as it painstakingly pivoted its bony fingers, slowly forming words on the wall.
—…Hello. Huh. What is my child attempting to do…?
After forming this word, it waved its hand at it.
Clakakakaka.
Behind its simple mask, it clacked its teeth, seemingly pleased with itself. Then, as thin mortisim began to coat its graceful fingers once again, it turned its head towards the opening of the cavern it had dug.
Dugraff and Winona stood there, the latter with pursed lips and clenched fists and the prior with weary eyes revealing deepening wrinkles.
"Skelly."
The skeleton turned around at this. It had understood what it was and how the inhabitants of the Saltminer Downs referred to it, simply responding to the summons.
Mark Dugraff's lips trembled as he struggled to form a smile.
"You're…well. Are you a…"
"Why ask, Mark? It's not necessary; the little guy is still one of us."
Winona parted her tightened teeth as she bared a rare smile, stumbling down the rocks leading the way down. Mark seemed to struggle with something, and his hands balled as his mighty frame heaved deep breaths.
"Skelly, I have a favor to ask of you." Her terse voice sounded unnaturally soft at this moment, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the lantern.
Mark Dugraff spoke up, too, deliberating on whether or not to get closer to the two.
"Those of the Duster's Brink demand your presence…."
Winona's face scrunched at this, black tears welling in her deadened eyes. The skeleton seemed to sense her distress as it reached out with its right arm…
A gloved hand softly grasped the side of the zombie woman's face.
"If you don't wanna go, you don't have to…I'll find some way to handle it. But if you really want to, then…"
Mark Dugraff took a step forward, his throat constricting as if a viper curled around his neck. The adam's apple bobbed up and down, a dryness pervading his mouth.
"Don't disobey them. You're a good kid, right? Do what it takes to live and grow stronger."
Winona placed a hand on the skeleton's head, batting off the miner's helm. The skeleton looked from the yellow hat to the two faces in its perception, swiveling its head here, there, and back again.
Before long, it simply pointed at the passageway as it tilted its head.
Mark Dugraff winced and looked away, unaware that the direction of his head gestured to the exit of the saltmine.
========
Quest: Duster's Brink
Givers: Mark Dugraff, Winona the Stronger.
Grade: Passing
LV Recommendation: N/A
Description: The Participants in Swillberg are dangerous people but are unlikely to harm those that work with them. The Inhabitants strongly suggest that you conform to their requests out of their concern.
Reward: ???
=========
[Do you accept? Yes/No]
The skeleton briefly looked over the contents and shrugged, walking out of the saltmine. As its rubber boots met the rusty metal floor, a red-stained sky blanketed it in a crimson outline.
Mara sighed and fulfilled the condition for yes. She was grateful for the Inhabitant's consideration of the skeleton, even leaving the quest open-ended instead of directly offering it. Hoping nothing too bad would come of this, she activated the quest arrow with crossed fingers.
Shua.
An arrow composed out of a grungy shape jutting inside and through a skull's open jaw appeared, coated in a psychedelic glimmer.
The skeleton followed the arrow simply because it was the only thing directing it. Before long, it was blanketed once again in sight-stealing black, small torches lining the walls of the descent.
Down it went, further into the depths of Swillberg. Down the Stairs of Waste it descended, the rotting metal springing with wet, sanguine liquids.