Half-elf Ranger

"Relax, living people, I've said it before, I won't hurt you, you have to believe me."

The weird zombie with half of its body leaned out from the window, looking down at Thorne and the others with a dignified expression, and said as calmly as possible.

Too bad it didn't work very well, apparently it was a bit too embarrassing for a terrifying zombie to practice his soft voice.

However, to his surprise, his kindness was exchanged for the opponent to draw swords.

So this enthusiastic zombie immediately changed the conversation, and spread his hands on the window edge comically, so that his body lost his balance, causing him to almost fall down, and when he struggled to stabilize his rigid body, it was quite helpless. the way:

"Well, as an undead creature, it doesn't seem to be able to gain trust by saying such things to you living people. It's like the 'I can't get in' that is often said to girls, which is unconvincing. .

But how can this be done? In fact, I just need to shout: 'Da dutiful son, there are living people here! ' Hahaha... Believe me, I promise that the death knight who just left will immediately rush over on horseback, wave the rune sword in his hand, and then make an operation to turn all of you into my compatriots.

But, you see, I didn't do that, I'm standing here and having a pleasant conversation with you living people. What does this represent? This means that in the eyes of the world, Mr. Zombie, who can only tear flesh and blood, has taken the lead in showing goodwill to you.

You don't have to be afraid of this, you know, this is very rare for the undead, look at how you did it, **** it, you tried to take advantage of..."

The weird zombie stood in front of the window and babbled endlessly, and everyone did not let their guard down because of this guy's words.

If it wasn't for the fear of revealing his identity in the small town and attracting the attention of the death knight, the paladin who could not hold himself back would probably have already started to purify him.

Thorne and the paladin Avar looked at each other, exchanged their thoughts, then nodded slightly, lifted the sword, and took the initiative to walk a few steps to the 'Lava and Spirits' tavern.

He turned sideways to avoid the thin skeleton thrown by the ogre zombie, looked up at the zombie on the third floor, and said calmly:

"What's the use of talking so much? I think your sincerity should be to come downstairs and let us communicate face-to-face. This is like a look, isn't it, polite Mr. Zombie?"

"Hmph, what a cunning half-elf. If I really go down, I'm afraid I won't be killed by your sword instantly. You think I'm stupid, so I can't go down."

Zombie's tone was obviously dissatisfied. He deliberately showed two rows of sharp fangs in his mouth, dressed up with a vivid grimace, and said gloomily:

"I tell you, if you dared to be so rude to me in the past, I promise to let my strongest ogre bodyguard kick your **** and let you open your arms and experience flying like a hippogriff. General feeling."

"Then what do you mean?" Thorne moved a few steps to the left, making way for the assembled little skeleton to the tavern, and asked the zombie.

This is the first undead they can communicate with in the town, and naturally they don't want to miss the opportunity to ask him for news.

And the most important thing is that Thorne can feel that this undead who can't see any strength is indeed greeting them with sincerity as he said.

But out of caution, he still needs to test the other party's reaction several times.

"Nothing else, I just want to sincerely invite you to come and sit for a while. You must know that the heaviest thing in life is not the burden, but the boredom."

The zombie heard the question from the ranger, facing the reddish moonlight, holding his chin with one hand and grabbing the window sill with the other, and began to babble again:

"Do you know what boredom is? Boredom is the desire to dissipate oneself into others, it seeks entertainment. Loneliness is the desire to be with others, and it seeks the ordinary warmth of the world. Loneliness is the acceptance of others into Desire within the self, which seeks understanding. There is no doubt that in front of you is a boring, lonely, and lonely Mr. Zombie.

And what about you outsiders? You are unwilling to meet me even such a trivial request. I sincerely invite you, just to feel a little warmth from the material world of the Lord, but you do not understand me at all, and you are trying to use the profit in your hands. The sword destroys me. "

There was a sad look on the pale face of the zombie, and there was a sense of pleading in his tone:

"So, I don't actually have any malicious intentions, I just want to have a pleasant chat with you. No way, I have been facing this group of undead who have been repeating the same actions for hundreds of years, and There was no entertainment whatsoever, and it was a painful ordeal for me.

Do you know how I got through this? I don't dare to recall the memories of the past at all, it's painful to think about them. After a long time, a long time... a long time, I stayed in the room like this, silent as a mouse, silent as a frozen lich, and the dust piled up on my body like snow , that nothing around me can get my attention..."

The weird zombie said sadly, and carefully looked at Thorne and his group with those humanized eyes that glowed faintly in the dark like a cat.

Thorne and others listened quietly to the words of the zombie's heart without showing impatience. The paladin Avar behind him even put away the sacred fine gold broadsword in his hand while listening.

"Oh, **** it! Please forgive me, I want to take back what I just said." As he spoke, Mr. Zombie shrunk into the pitch-black hut in horror as if a mouse saw a cat. A head with a black top hat pointed fingers at several people in an exaggerated and excited tone:

"What a wonderful combination you guys are! Look what I see in this dead town? Banshees - born in the dark, evil creatures who worship the power of resentment, blasphemous wizards - think they have god-given powers With privilege, the high elves—a bunch of idiots with eyes above their heads, rigid paladins—they were stinky and hard like quarry stones.

Damn, do you know why this poor little town is like this? It's no wonder that the gods will impose divine punishment, all of which are caused by you pests with one hand and one hand!

Paladins, elves, wizards, banshees, oh my god, what a familiar combination, is history going to repeat itself? But I'm already dead..."

"Hey!" Thorne couldn't take it anymore, and immediately interrupted the zombie chattering like a parrot, looking at him with interest:

"Why don't you have my evaluation, let's talk about it, I allow you to speak freely, and see what kind of evil existence I am in your eyes."

"You? You're just a half-elf, there's nothing to complain about." Zombie, whose expression became crazy with excitement, stared at Thorne for a while, and inexplicably squeezed a smile at him:

"Then, Your Excellency Half-elf, can you accept my invitation and come and sit for a while? You must know that I have stayed in this town for hundreds of years, and no one... Oh, no, it should be said that there is no undead society. Knows this town better than I do."

Hearing the words, Thorne bowed to him stiffly like a zombie, and said solemnly: "I accept your invitation, the master is kind, but disrespectful."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and gave the people behind him a reassuring look. He ignored everyone's objections and let them wait here.

"Then treat this place as your own home." Zombie was so happy that his eyes narrowed into two slits, and he also replied solemnly:

"Dear guest, please come this way, don't pass through those filthy drunkards, that insults your identity, my guest must be a decent person, obviously you are very in line with my aesthetics and values."

Thorne walked in through a small door beside the tavern, and walked to the third floor from a spiral staircase that was only big enough for one person.

The zombie's room is quite neat and clean, but due to the erosion of time and negative energy, it is obvious that large-scale repairs are needed. He can see that the furniture is the work of skilled craftsmen-if it was placed hundreds of years ago.

As soon as Thorne entered the house, he smelled the pungent smell of dust in the dark room.

"Light up!" The zombie hiding in the darkness shouted excitedly.

The torches on the iron frame of the house burst into decayed flames and black smoke.

As the dim light dispelled the deep darkness, Thorne saw the face of the zombie clearly.

He wears a black top hat on his head, the brim of the hat is cracked with a gap **** wide, and the silk gown on his body looks very well-crafted.

But unfortunately, after the double erosion of time and negative energy, many large and small holes have been broken, and combined with the terrifying zombie face, it looks a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Half-elf. Although this dress is strange and a little rude, I hope you can understand, because this is the best clothing I have found."

Mr. Zombie's smart eyes seemed to see the subtle changes in the Ranger's expression, and he said helplessly: "However, at least this seems to be complete, and it can be regarded as satisfying my little remaining sense of shame."

There are no windows in the room, which is obviously not the room where the zombies are when they communicate with several people on the street.

In the center stood a huge oak table with a brass candlestick that had turned green, covered with caked hard wax, and the candle flickered at the command of the zombies, giving it to the dark. The room was a little brighter.

"Understandable, you don't have to feel guilty about it, you've done a good job, Mr. Zombie." Thorne slowly put down his guard and replied politely.

Then he continued to look at everything in the room. One wall was covered with rusted weapons, including round shields, crossed swords, javelins and machetes, two-handed swords and great axes.

Another wall is occupied by a huge fireplace, above which hangs a mottled row of portraits.

The wall directly opposite the door is lined with prey memorabilia—the heads of hippogryphs and dire deer, whose horns cast wild shadows on the grinning faces of boars, lions, and bears.

There is also a messy eagle below, and the most conspicuous place is the head of a petrified lizard, which is dyed solemn black, and the head is stuffed with hay.

"It was done by the lord of Dawn. I spent a lot of money to get the souvenir." Zombie said to Thorne, while stuffing a rotten log into the fireplace that had been abandoned for hundreds of years, and put it Lit, "Sit down, guest. Are you hungry?"

"Oh, I'm very sorry, please forgive me for not being able to prepare a good dinner for you, I'm really sorry." Zombie said to Thorne apologetically as if he had remembered something.

"It doesn't matter, as an adventurer, a rich dinner will only hinder my practice." Thorne waved his hand, sat on the dusty chair as thick as snow, looked at the cramped zombie, and joked with a smile:

"You know, not only are there no tailors and good fabrics, but there is also no rich food, how can there be a cook, and even if there is a cook, I think he will be unemployed, because you don't need to eat anymore. "

"It's an interesting half-elf. I have to say, you are very courageous." Zombie looked at Thorne, who was not nervous, and smiled at him: "I forgot, what should I call you?"

"Thorn, a ranger. How about you?"

"My name is Vanger, I am a bard. But because of life, I changed my career and became a businessman." Zombie Vanger once again showed his stubborn attributes: "When it comes to businessmen, I have to say that I am a businessman. What a wise choice it was."

Thorne made an air of listening intently.

"I was a down-and-out bard at the time, making a living in a tavern with funny poetry, but an unexpected source of intelligence changed my fate and made me a fortune as a down-to-earth beggar.

There's a turmoil in the kingdom of Hescan in the Silverpine Plains, a revolution... um.... Dear ranger guest, do you know what 'revolution' means? "

"I know a little bit, it's related to politics, or the battle for kingship." Thorne pretended to ponder and replied with a smile.

"It's so rare that the rangers who roam the wilderness and dungeons are also involved in this area." Zombie Vanger gave Thorne a surprised look and continued: "Because of this, King Rhode was deposed."

"Does this have anything to do with your making a fortune?" Thorne interrupted Vangel's words and asked curiously, "Or, did you participate in this coup?"

"No, no, you have to know that I am a down-and-out bard, and I have no power to tie a chicken. How could I risk something like going to the gallows." Fanger shook his head and said with a smile on his face. :

"Mainly because of the ruling royal family of Rhodes, whose court, family and army all wore blue uniforms, and the weavers there sold only indigo.

But since the coup d'état, the Seti family, who have successfully ascended the throne, have been wearing crimson clothes. So the price of indigo plummeted, but carmine rose. At this time, those businessmen discovered that I had borrowed a large amount of money from the bank in Shuguang Town, and bought all the carmines in advance. "

Bank loan?

Thorne, who heard the familiar noun, couldn't help sitting upright and looked at the talkative zombie seriously.

"It was this first pot of gold that made me discover my true talent, and as time passed, I eventually became the richest businessman in Dawning Town, and my business became very extensive, wood, spices, cosmetics, I have been involved in various fields such as weapons and so on.

But now, I'm just a zombie, a very ordinary zombie, a pitiful zombie, a lonely and helpless zombie..."

Zombie Vanger, who was originally showing off his intelligence to Thorne, said, lowered his eyes again, and was secretly hurt.

"It's really a sad story." Thorne cast a sympathetic look, then shifted the subject to what interests him most: "So can you tell me what caused this disaster?"

"Actually, I don't know very well." Vangel scratched his head in confusion and recalled: "At that time, Dawning Town was facing the evil invasion of the Desolate Skull Mountains. As the richest man in Dawning Town, I can't do anything except donate money and materials. Of course, I can't go to battle to kill the enemy.

I remember very clearly, in the middle of a starless night, I was about to put my arms around a girl to sleep...

do you know? The girl was Rila, the daughter of a poor knight who owed nothing but a skinny old horse, a rusty sword, and of course a beautiful daughter. He was like a lump of cow dung, and he smelled like it. I really understand why he can have such a beautiful daughter, it's like a flower on cow dung.

When I saw this cow dung knight brought his daughter to me to sell, I bet my right hand in my heart that his daughter Rila must have been raped when his father went to war, but That doesn't stop me from liking her, because she's so beautiful, her eyes are bigger than the sun in the desert..."

"Mr. Vanger, digress." Thorne, who couldn't listen, tapped the table with the back of his hand, reminding him.