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The battle having ended hours ago. He wanders the battlefield until he stumbles on a body. This soon leads to event which will send him to the darkest arts of magic, the criminal and supernatural underworld, and cults.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Clyde, a soldier in a seemingly endless war, wakes up on the battlefield. The battle having ended hours ago. He wanders the battlefield until he stumbles on a body. This soon leads to event which will send him to the darkest arts of magic, the criminal and supernatural underworld, and cults.", "writing": "[center][t]Clyde Dances with The Dead[/t][/center]\n\n[i]Chapter 1: Desertion[/i]\n\nClyde had woken up just before dawn on the war-torn field. Bodies laid everywhere, some torn and mangled and others with barely a scratch. However, all were laying in a pool of their collective blood. Clyde looked at them, but barely paid them any mind. He had woken up in similar scenes; some nearly identical. To Clyde, this was just another home.\n\nHis brown and black spotted fur was matted with rain, blood, and mud. His uniform was also soaked in all this made him feel a lot heavier. His armor was beaten in and dented in many places, had a few scorch marks from magic, and even pieced in some. He had lost his helmet sometime in the fighting. His flintlock, saber, and other tools hung limply on him, his saber on his back and the rest at his hip from a belt. If he could see his own face, he would see that one of his yellow eyes was bloodshot and bruised and he had a few new additions to the scars on his face.\n\n\tNo matter where he would go, he would always feel uneasy without the smell of blood and mud in the air. Clyde had barely registered that he had gotten up and was walking through the desolate battlefield. He did not care too much about looters or still living soldiers. Looters for the chance of being caught and executed, or worse conscripted, and most of the surviving soldiers had already woken up and dragged themselves back to the nearest camp. None of the sides bothered to recover the dead or wounded; choosing rather to leave them to their fate. Ending up with the battlefields of this war being both the most peaceful and violent places around nowadays. Honestly, Clyde himself had no idea what the war was being fought about; all the politics had gone to the wayside long ago for him.\n\n\tThe soldiers who had left before him in the field of gore had already taken themselves, their loot, and or their comrades with them. All that was left now were the dead. Honestly, Clyde found this more comfort in this than any moment in his childhood. The bodies of fellow soldiers filled him with a strange sense of pride that he himself didn't entirely understand.\n\n\tHe didn't know or even care if there was a life after this or if it simply started anew or nothing at all. Even if he could come back to this life after it ended, he would do exactly what he has been doing without a second thought. Clyde's wondering thoughts were brought to a stop as he fell face first into the bloody mud. Looking back to see what tripped him, he saw the corpse of an enemy lying face down in some bushes.\n\n\tSomething about the body caught his curiosity. He could tell quite obviously that it was a cat, most likely female judging by the curvaceous yet muscular body. He crawled over to her body and turned her over to see her face... or more like lack thereof. She looked like she had gotten shot in the head at point blank by a cannon loaded with grapeshot. The only thing that remained were her split lower jaw, fragments of skull held together by bits of skin, and tongue hanging out.\n\n\tClyde stared at her dismembered head with morbid curiosity and studied every broken fragment of skull and torn inch of flesh. It was common for him to focus in on a corpse he'd found that had been especially brutalized like this and it surprised no one around him. No one knew what he found in these bodies that they found gruesome and traumatizing. Though it was probably better for them not to know the truth\n\n\tClyde, unbeknownst to all that knew him, found these corpses as beautiful as one would see a noble lady, or in Clyde's case a tavern whore. He didn't much like the nobles, too many of them frail and thin skinned unable to accept the brutality of the world. Though this wasn't on his mind, he was focused on this woman's body and dismembered head. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't interrupted like some other times. While they didn't cause too much trouble for him it did spoil the mood between him and ``lovers''.\n\n\tSo, he set on moving her to a more secluded and covered area. After a minute or two of looking around he saw this burnt hut like construction that the enemy had been using as cover to fire from. It wasn't as much a problem after some powder charges were throw into it. It wasn't burning like it was before and had a large chunk of the metal roof blown off, but it was better that out in the open.\n\n\tHe dragged her inside through the hole and started feeling a bit more comfortable with a corpse and being out of the elements for the most part. He put up a tarp covering most of the hole to block out the wind, rain, and the little light that's able to get through the clouds. Turning back to the cat's corpse he takes off his armor and uniform quickly and the cat's corpse more gently. As he takes off her jacket, he admires her breasts that are cold and furry except for around her nipples. It was moments like this that make him love his isolation.\n\n\tThe ability to satiate any desires he had and let his innermost thought be known. Sometimes he would pretend that his corpses were able to hear him and be utterly disgusted by him. This time, however, it was dead silent... Clyde mentally slapped himself for the pun. Clyde pull the unnamed cat's corpse close to him, hugging and groping her ass and breast. He felt safe and warm like this, being able to be as intimate and open as he felt without consequence. This was why he would ever be here anyways, to live without consequence. At least he thinks that's why.\n\n\tHe tries to focus on satiating his desire first before thinking too deeply into his own psyche for the moment. He kisses what he could of her ruined mouth, taking her limply hanging tongue into his and sucking on it. He loved the sandpaper texture of it, the metallic taste of her blood coating it, and starting into her gored head. All of it was intoxicating. He could live the rest of his life in this moment with her body.\n\n\tClyde's cock at this point was rock solid and leaking all over him. He took it as a sign to get on with it and fuck her. So, he did just that, he laid her on her back and spread her legs. Her sex was wet with her piss from when she died, but this didn't bother Clyde very much as he was very much used to it at this point and even quite like it. He took his cock and press it against her pussy and slid inside her. It was lukewarm and his cock wanted to stick a bit insider her. The strange sensation of dead pussy egged him on even more.\n\n\tWith not even a hint of gentleness he thrust in as hard as he could. He felt his cock force its' way through her cervix and into her womb. Clyde let out a long shivering groan as his cock was hilted in corpse cunt. After a moment, he pulled his cock out till only the tip was inside and thrust back in even harder than before. The sound of wet slapping filled the burnt out remains of the hut-like construction. Clyde's nose was filled with the smell of her piss-soaked sex and it filled his mind with lust and thoughts of debauchery.\n\n\tAs his mind was enraptured by the fog of lust his treatment of her body became more violent. He punched her stomach and slapped, clawed, and bit her tits. Eventually, through the violent haze of arousal and violence he gripped her beaten breasts with his claws and tore them off. A sound akin to tearing rubber and wet meat being cut filled Clyde's ears. It soon stopped once Clyde had successfully ripped the mammaries from the corpse's chest.\n\n\tClyde mashed his face in between the two globes as he bucked his hips into the body's now very worn pussy. It now resembled a wound caused by something similar to what took out the cat's head. By this time, it was also very loose, much too loose for Clyde to finished with. So, with a bit of depraved creativity, he took a dagger of his and pierced one of the breasts just under the nipple. He slid his cock out of the destroyed dead cunt and rammed it into the torn-off tit and used it like a fleshlight. The wet sickening squelching sound for his cock fucking further inside the breast tissue was all Clyde was hearing now and he could tell he was getting close. He stood overtop the mutilated cat's corpse and forced his dick in as hard as he could until it came out the other end of the piece of flesh.\n\n\tWith this, Clyde fucked the boob like his life depended on it; he howled and cursed in pleasure at the top of his lungs. Eventually he pressed the tit into his crotch as hard as he could and came onto the destroyed head of the feline corpse. Cum coated the tongue and the bits of brain left, it dripped down onto and along her broken jaw. Clyde ripped the tit off his cock, squatted down a bit, and stuck his cock directly into her esophagus. He wanted to ride this pleasure out for as long as he could.\n\n\tEventually, he was finished, and the feline's corpse was now somehow even worse than when Clyde had found it. Her destroyed head was now coated in sperm, her throat wide from being fucked without mercy, her pussy gaping wide and nearly ripped down to her asshole, and both breasts removed by Clyde's bare hands. It was unimaginably liberating to be able to vent all his frustrations and stresses into the corpses he took for himself. Clyde breathed a sigh of relief as he looked over his work with a perverse joy.\n\n\tClyde laid on the bloodied and dismembered corpse of the unknown feline resting after the passionate destruction. Then he started hearing some voices, faint but definitely getting closer. He quickly got off the body and put on some of his armor and grabbed his rifle and saber. He was sure he was hidden enough that they wouldn't see him or the corpse he had mangled and desecrated. He moved the tarp out of the way just enough that he could see outside the hut-like construction.\n\n\tIn the distance he could see two figures in cloaks moving by. Both wore long black cloaks and hoods with red accents. He strained to hear them, assuming that they were ballsy looters or, gods forbid, scouts for a larger force that was moving through. If it was the former, then Clyde would have to listen especially close to know which path or paths to avoid. As he listened closely, he loaded his rifle and affixed his bayonet.\n\n``-et that one. Decomposition hasn't set in yet so their body with be more versatile.'' The taller one told the short one. The taller one had a masculine and gravelly voice whose words seemed to drag on just a bit too long. The shorter one was pulling a small cart with a couple bodies stacked on.\n\n``Yes, sir.'' The short one said quickly and began pulling the body up onto the cart with the others. Their voice was quiet and feminine and sounded as if were about to be lost from the strain of simply talking.\n\n\tThe small figure seemed to be taking too long loading the body for the taller's liking. Who scolded them saying ``Get the one faster, damnit! We don't need to be squatting around here any longer than we need.''\n\n\t``Why? Everyone who was alive should have already left. The only ones left here are the dead and dying.'' The smaller replied. ``You stupid gods damned fool! Haven't you been listening to anyone about that fucking necrophile that's been roaming around the battlefields!? He's torn those bodies apart in ways even I can't imagine! Do you have any idea what he'd do to someone alive?!'' The taller insulted and chastised.\n\n\t``For Spirits sake, stop shouting. If you're so paranoid about him finding us, then I think your loudmouth will get him coming our way quicker than us loitering around a bit too long.'' The shorter quipped back. The taller was about to reply with a comeback but realize that he was going to draw anyone looking for people like them with his shouting if he hadn't already. He held his tone back just a bit, tried to calm down, and keep looking for good bodies.\n\n\tIt didn't take long for Clyde to figure out who they were, necromancers. Graverobbers, looters, magicians, and very ambitious scholars that took their professions to very dark corners of the world. Clyde kept as hidden as he could and took aim at the tallest with his musket primed and ready to fire. Once the tall one raised his head up high enough Clyde fired his rifle.\n\n\tThe shot rang out across the entire scorched field as the tall figure fell clutching his face and his screams of agony turning into a gargling mess. Clyde got up quickly and ran toward the short one, who was disoriented and confused from the loud bang of Clyde rifle and his associate's screaming and the sight of his face smashed open by a .50 caliber musket ball. As Clyde charged the small one, he let out a loud and signature hyena laughing as the adrenaline started flowing quickly and strongly. The small one tried to flee but by the time he had gotten out of his shocked stupor Clyde was already on him.\n\n\tClyde thrusted the bayonet into his belly and pushed him onto the muddy ground. Clyde stomped one foot right next to the newly created wound in the small one's stomach and tore his bayonet from it. Blood spilled like a waterfall from his stomach as he screamed in pain and fear. It was quickly silenced by Clyde's rifle smashing him in the face twice. Once breaking his nose and two of his incisors and the second splitting open his cheek and blacking his eye. He was thoroughly knocked unconscious.\n\n\tClyde quickly turned to the one he shot and smashed the butt of his rifle onto the back of his head. With both incapacitated he quickly got to work tearing strips of their robe and binding their arms and legs. He looked around in case there were others with them nearby which, to his relief, there weren't. He shouldered his rifle and picked the two up and carried them to the armored construction and dropped them inside. He sat down across from them and took their hoods off.\n\n\tThe short one was a very young wolf male and the tall one was an elderly goat man. He ripped their robes open to make sure they didn't have any weapons or means of escape hidden in them. Once he was satisfied that they wouldn't have any way of getting out of this Clyde began to relax on the corpse he had previously defiled. Now having the time and calmness to think clearly Clyde goes back to that line of thought he pushed away a while ago.\n\n\tHis reasoning for staying in service of his military... He was trying his best to think of a reason. Corpses, violence, easy access to weapons, and easy sex. Each of these reasons were shot down by another reason that they could be just as easily obtained elsewhere by other means, mainly murder and theft. Really, he was able to think of more reason not to stay in the army. The upper brass constantly sending him and everyone else on meaningless suicide missions with no other reasoning except that it might work. That one alone was enough to make him consider deserting immediately.\n\n\tNo one would really blame him either. It's fairly evident that the powers that be are going to keep fighting till one or both of them are gone. He's pretty sure he could make it fairly well as a bandit too. He has some fairly decent experience looting and fighting. Though, he wants to be something more than some common mugger or murderer. His gaze drifts to the two necromancers and his mind starts putting things together. He crawled over to the two and started searching through their robes and belongings for anything useful and he did. A large leather-bound book with two thick black belts keeping it shut, its pages were yellow with age, and the cover itself a blend of greys, tans, and blacks.\n\n\tClyde opened the pages expecting cryptic runes and dead languages and while there was some of that in the book it was much easier to understand than he was expecting. Instructions, incantations, and rituals made up the bulk of the book from what he skimmed through. There were a few spells, but Clyde wasn't really ever able to get the hang of it, preferring a flintlock and sword to a wand and book. Though if he ever really felt like it, he supposed he could get it done with some practice. However, these spells weren't really what he was thinking of. Raising the dead, thaumaturgy, dark ritual, these were the things Clyde had in mind.\n\n\tHe started thinking of where to go. He looked around at the destroyed construction he was in. ``Not much of a permanent home...'' Clyde said to himself. He poked his head out from behind the tarp and looked around at the surroundings. The battlefields weren't a suitable home seeing as the armies would sometimes be sent back to the same place to fight. Clyde didn't know why, he wasn't a strategist, but he didn't care.\n\n\tHe remembered finding some caves last time he was here and figured that would probably be the best place to start. It was better than where he was, that was for sure. He picked up the two necromancers and the mutilated and molested corpse and headed for the necromancers' cart. Seeing it as the easier method to carry their bodies and as a plus they had already thrown some on for him. Once he got to their cart, he tossed them on and pushed the cart in the general direction of the woods.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Clyde Dances with The Dead


Chapter 1: Desertion

Clyde had woken up just before dawn on the war-torn field. Bodies laid everywhere, some torn and mangled and others with barely a scratch. However, all were laying in a pool of their collective blood. Clyde looked at them, but barely paid them any mind. He had woken up in similar scenes; some nearly identical. To Clyde, this was just another home.

His brown and black spotted fur was matted with rain, blood, and mud. His uniform was also soaked in all this made him feel a lot heavier. His armor was beaten in and dented in many places, had a few scorch marks from magic, and even pieced in some. He had lost his helmet sometime in the fighting. His flintlock, saber, and other tools hung limply on him, his saber on his back and the rest at his hip from a belt. If he could see his own face, he would see that one of his yellow eyes was bloodshot and bruised and he had a few new additions to the scars on his face.

\tNo matter where he would go, he would always feel uneasy without the smell of blood and mud in the air. Clyde had barely registered that he had gotten up and was walking through the desolate battlefield. He did not care too much about looters or still living soldiers. Looters for the chance of being caught and executed, or worse conscripted, and most of the surviving soldiers had already woken up and dragged themselves back to the nearest camp. None of the sides bothered to recover the dead or wounded; choosing rather to leave them to their fate. Ending up with the battlefields of this war being both the most peaceful and violent places around nowadays. Honestly, Clyde himself had no idea what the war was being fought about; all the politics had gone to the wayside long ago for him.

\tThe soldiers who had left before him in the field of gore had already taken themselves, their loot, and or their comrades with them. All that was left now were the dead. Honestly, Clyde found this more comfort in this than any moment in his childhood. The bodies of fellow soldiers filled him with a strange sense of pride that he himself didn't entirely understand.

\tHe didn't know or even care if there was a life after this or if it simply started anew or nothing at all. Even if he could come back to this life after it ended, he would do exactly what he has been doing without a second thought. Clyde's wondering thoughts were brought to a stop as he fell face first into the bloody mud. Looking back to see what tripped him, he saw the corpse of an enemy lying face down in some bushes.

\tSomething about the body caught his curiosity. He could tell quite obviously that it was a cat, most likely female judging by the curvaceous yet muscular body. He crawled over to her body and turned her over to see her face... or more like lack thereof. She looked like she had gotten shot in the head at point blank by a cannon loaded with grapeshot. The only thing that remained were her split lower jaw, fragments of skull held together by bits of skin, and tongue hanging out.

\tClyde stared at her dismembered head with morbid curiosity and studied every broken fragment of skull and torn inch of flesh. It was common for him to focus in on a corpse he'd found that had been especially brutalized like this and it surprised no one around him. No one knew what he found in these bodies that they found gruesome and traumatizing. Though it was probably better for them not to know the truth

\tClyde, unbeknownst to all that knew him, found these corpses as beautiful as one would see a noble lady, or in Clyde's case a tavern whore. He didn't much like the nobles, too many of them frail and thin skinned unable to accept the brutality of the world. Though this wasn't on his mind, he was focused on this woman's body and dismembered head. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't interrupted like some other times. While they didn't cause too much trouble for him it did spoil the mood between him and ``lovers''.

\tSo, he set on moving her to a more secluded and covered area. After a minute or two of looking around he saw this burnt hut like construction that the enemy had been using as cover to fire from. It wasn't as much a problem after some powder charges were throw into it. It wasn't burning like it was before and had a large chunk of the metal roof blown off, but it was better that out in the open.

\tHe dragged her inside through the hole and started feeling a bit more comfortable with a corpse and being out of the elements for the most part. He put up a tarp covering most of the hole to block out the wind, rain, and the little light that's able to get through the clouds. Turning back to the cat's corpse he takes off his armor and uniform quickly and the cat's corpse more gently. As he takes off her jacket, he admires her breasts that are cold and furry except for around her nipples. It was moments like this that make him love his isolation.

\tThe ability to satiate any desires he had and let his innermost thought be known. Sometimes he would pretend that his corpses were able to hear him and be utterly disgusted by him. This time, however, it was dead silent... Clyde mentally slapped himself for the pun. Clyde pull the unnamed cat's corpse close to him, hugging and groping her ass and breast. He felt safe and warm like this, being able to be as intimate and open as he felt without consequence. This was why he would ever be here anyways, to live without consequence. At least he thinks that's why.

\tHe tries to focus on satiating his desire first before thinking too deeply into his own psyche for the moment. He kisses what he could of her ruined mouth, taking her limply hanging tongue into his and sucking on it. He loved the sandpaper texture of it, the metallic taste of her blood coating it, and starting into her gored head. All of it was intoxicating. He could live the rest of his life in this moment with her body.

\tClyde's cock at this point was rock solid and leaking all over him. He took it as a sign to get on with it and fuck her. So, he did just that, he laid her on her back and spread her legs. Her sex was wet with her piss from when she died, but this didn't bother Clyde very much as he was very much used to it at this point and even quite like it. He took his cock and press it against her pussy and slid inside her. It was lukewarm and his cock wanted to stick a bit insider her. The strange sensation of dead pussy egged him on even more.

\tWith not even a hint of gentleness he thrust in as hard as he could. He felt his cock force its' way through her cervix and into her womb. Clyde let out a long shivering groan as his cock was hilted in corpse cunt. After a moment, he pulled his cock out till only the tip was inside and thrust back in even harder than before. The sound of wet slapping filled the burnt out remains of the hut-like construction. Clyde's nose was filled with the smell of her piss-soaked sex and it filled his mind with lust and thoughts of debauchery.

\tAs his mind was enraptured by the fog of lust his treatment of her body became more violent. He punched her stomach and slapped, clawed, and bit her tits. Eventually, through the violent haze of arousal and violence he gripped her beaten breasts with his claws and tore them off. A sound akin to tearing rubber and wet meat being cut filled Clyde's ears. It soon stopped once Clyde had successfully ripped the mammaries from the corpse's chest.

\tClyde mashed his face in between the two globes as he bucked his hips into the body's now very worn pussy. It now resembled a wound caused by something similar to what took out the cat's head. By this time, it was also very loose, much too loose for Clyde to finished with. So, with a bit of depraved creativity, he took a dagger of his and pierced one of the breasts just under the nipple. He slid his cock out of the destroyed dead cunt and rammed it into the torn-off tit and used it like a fleshlight. The wet sickening squelching sound for his cock fucking further inside the breast tissue was all Clyde was hearing now and he could tell he was getting close. He stood overtop the mutilated cat's corpse and forced his dick in as hard as he could until it came out the other end of the piece of flesh.

\tWith this, Clyde fucked the boob like his life depended on it; he howled and cursed in pleasure at the top of his lungs. Eventually he pressed the tit into his crotch as hard as he could and came onto the destroyed head of the feline corpse. Cum coated the tongue and the bits of brain left, it dripped down onto and along her broken jaw. Clyde ripped the tit off his cock, squatted down a bit, and stuck his cock directly into her esophagus. He wanted to ride this pleasure out for as long as he could.

\tEventually, he was finished, and the feline's corpse was now somehow even worse than when Clyde had found it. Her destroyed head was now coated in sperm, her throat wide from being fucked without mercy, her pussy gaping wide and nearly ripped down to her asshole, and both breasts removed by Clyde's bare hands. It was unimaginably liberating to be able to vent all his frustrations and stresses into the corpses he took for himself. Clyde breathed a sigh of relief as he looked over his work with a perverse joy.

\tClyde laid on the bloodied and dismembered corpse of the unknown feline resting after the passionate destruction. Then he started hearing some voices, faint but definitely getting closer. He quickly got off the body and put on some of his armor and grabbed his rifle and saber. He was sure he was hidden enough that they wouldn't see him or the corpse he had mangled and desecrated. He moved the tarp out of the way just enough that he could see outside the hut-like construction.

\tIn the distance he could see two figures in cloaks moving by. Both wore long black cloaks and hoods with red accents. He strained to hear them, assuming that they were ballsy looters or, gods forbid, scouts for a larger force that was moving through. If it was the former, then Clyde would have to listen especially close to know which path or paths to avoid. As he listened closely, he loaded his rifle and affixed his bayonet.

``-et that one. Decomposition hasn't set in yet so their body with be more versatile.'' The taller one told the short one. The taller one had a masculine and gravelly voice whose words seemed to drag on just a bit too long. The shorter one was pulling a small cart with a couple bodies stacked on.

``Yes, sir.'' The short one said quickly and began pulling the body up onto the cart with the others. Their voice was quiet and feminine and sounded as if were about to be lost from the strain of simply talking.

\tThe small figure seemed to be taking too long loading the body for the taller's liking. Who scolded them saying ``Get the one faster, damnit! We don't need to be squatting around here any longer than we need.''

\t``Why? Everyone who was alive should have already left. The only ones left here are the dead and dying.'' The smaller replied. ``You stupid gods damned fool! Haven't you been listening to anyone about that fucking necrophile that's been roaming around the battlefields!? He's torn those bodies apart in ways even I can't imagine! Do you have any idea what he'd do to someone alive?!'' The taller insulted and chastised.

\t``For Spirits sake, stop shouting. If you're so paranoid about him finding us, then I think your loudmouth will get him coming our way quicker than us loitering around a bit too long.'' The shorter quipped back. The taller was about to reply with a comeback but realize that he was going to draw anyone looking for people like them with his shouting if he hadn't already. He held his tone back just a bit, tried to calm down, and keep looking for good bodies.

\tIt didn't take long for Clyde to figure out who they were, necromancers. Graverobbers, looters, magicians, and very ambitious scholars that took their professions to very dark corners of the world. Clyde kept as hidden as he could and took aim at the tallest with his musket primed and ready to fire. Once the tall one raised his head up high enough Clyde fired his rifle.

\tThe shot rang out across the entire scorched field as the tall figure fell clutching his face and his screams of agony turning into a gargling mess. Clyde got up quickly and ran toward the short one, who was disoriented and confused from the loud bang of Clyde rifle and his associate's screaming and the sight of his face smashed open by a .50 caliber musket ball. As Clyde charged the small one, he let out a loud and signature hyena laughing as the adrenaline started flowing quickly and strongly. The small one tried to flee but by the time he had gotten out of his shocked stupor Clyde was already on him.

\tClyde thrusted the bayonet into his belly and pushed him onto the muddy ground. Clyde stomped one foot right next to the newly created wound in the small one's stomach and tore his bayonet from it. Blood spilled like a waterfall from his stomach as he screamed in pain and fear. It was quickly silenced by Clyde's rifle smashing him in the face twice. Once breaking his nose and two of his incisors and the second splitting open his cheek and blacking his eye. He was thoroughly knocked unconscious.

\tClyde quickly turned to the one he shot and smashed the butt of his rifle onto the back of his head. With both incapacitated he quickly got to work tearing strips of their robe and binding their arms and legs. He looked around in case there were others with them nearby which, to his relief, there weren't. He shouldered his rifle and picked the two up and carried them to the armored construction and dropped them inside. He sat down across from them and took their hoods off.

\tThe short one was a very young wolf male and the tall one was an elderly goat man. He ripped their robes open to make sure they didn't have any weapons or means of escape hidden in them. Once he was satisfied that they wouldn't have any way of getting out of this Clyde began to relax on the corpse he had previously defiled. Now having the time and calmness to think clearly Clyde goes back to that line of thought he pushed away a while ago.

\tHis reasoning for staying in service of his military... He was trying his best to think of a reason. Corpses, violence, easy access to weapons, and easy sex. Each of these reasons were shot down by another reason that they could be just as easily obtained elsewhere by other means, mainly murder and theft. Really, he was able to think of more reason not to stay in the army. The upper brass constantly sending him and everyone else on meaningless suicide missions with no other reasoning except that it might work. That one alone was enough to make him consider deserting immediately.

\tNo one would really blame him either. It's fairly evident that the powers that be are going to keep fighting till one or both of them are gone. He's pretty sure he could make it fairly well as a bandit too. He has some fairly decent experience looting and fighting. Though, he wants to be something more than some common mugger or murderer. His gaze drifts to the two necromancers and his mind starts putting things together. He crawled over to the two and started searching through their robes and belongings for anything useful and he did. A large leather-bound book with two thick black belts keeping it shut, its pages were yellow with age, and the cover itself a blend of greys, tans, and blacks.

\tClyde opened the pages expecting cryptic runes and dead languages and while there was some of that in the book it was much easier to understand than he was expecting. Instructions, incantations, and rituals made up the bulk of the book from what he skimmed through. There were a few spells, but Clyde wasn't really ever able to get the hang of it, preferring a flintlock and sword to a wand and book. Though if he ever really felt like it, he supposed he could get it done with some practice. However, these spells weren't really what he was thinking of. Raising the dead, thaumaturgy, dark ritual, these were the things Clyde had in mind.

\tHe started thinking of where to go. He looked around at the destroyed construction he was in. ``Not much of a permanent home...'' Clyde said to himself. He poked his head out from behind the tarp and looked around at the surroundings. The battlefields weren't a suitable home seeing as the armies would sometimes be sent back to the same place to fight. Clyde didn't know why, he wasn't a strategist, but he didn't care.

\tHe remembered finding some caves last time he was here and figured that would probably be the best place to start. It was better than where he was, that was for sure. He picked up the two necromancers and the mutilated and molested corpse and headed for the necromancers' cart. Seeing it as the easier method to carry their bodies and as a plus they had already thrown some on for him. Once he got to their cart, he tossed them on and pushed the cart in the general direction of the woods.

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