Upon being handed the strange magical bauble, the Skeleton felt an unspeakable wave of rage wash over him. Judging by his experience on wizards, it was surely a trick to bind him to his will, making him serve as a personal bodyguard till the wizard's death-
"...give you instructions on what to do and who to kill." To hell with that. The orb would do. Though, his potential outburst was amplified, once the Skeleton processed just what the mage had said. "Rest of the crew." Crew. That means other creatures to work with. Now, one needn't be the brightest tool in the shed to figure out that lovely ol' ARGH wasn't exactly a team player, or that being in the proximity of one or more sentient and nonsentient creatures was enough to drive him into a murderous frenzy, incomprehensible fury, and perhaps even beyond that. Needless to say, the very idea was enough to make him snap. Yet, instead of any chaotic outburst, the undead creature simply stomped the ground with his massive boot, and turned around, beginning to make his way to said tavern. Though he remained silent the entire time, the pulverized pavement in the shape of his boot mark more than testified his mood.
Placing the orb in a pouch hanging from his kilt, the bony beast made his way to the market's fringes. Halting for a few moments, he mentally prepared for what would come next. The bazaar was as filthy, crowded and noisy as before. Perhaps even worse. Monstrous creatures of all sorts swarmed it, creating hideous (and highly obnoxious) waves of bodies. Just the sight the Skeleton needed to see, after learning that he had to cooperate with a group. To say he'd be fuming would be an understatement.
Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, he entered the sea of bodies head-on, walking slowly. At first, he did not react to the numerous monstrous denizens bumping into him, but as time went on, and with the help of an ever-constant ruckus, rage-induced twitches turned into violent jerks of the forearms, which turned into elbow strikes, and eventually evolved into a full-on frenzy. Plowing madly though the crowd, all whilst screaming profanity every inch of the way, he began leaving a trail of caved-in skulls and spilled vital juices, that, due to the natural chaos of said market, was barely noticeable from a good few feet away. Finally leaving the swirling mass of idiocy, he seemed to be near his objective. The tavern was just around the corner, and the crowd had finally cleared. Having returned to his normal pace -he had left the bazaar for a minute or so- he heard a gurgling cry, one he had heard before.
"'Ey! That's him! Get 'im boys!" The ghouls he had pursued earlier. The bone-biters had returned, and in a small pack this time. Finding safety in numbers, they lunged at the Skeleton, who appeared to have frozen in place, unaware of the magnitude of wrath they were about to unleash.
***
When the Skeleton found himself before the inn, there was little to signify that such a structure was ever there. Still holding onto a ghoul, his fingers shoved inside it's eye sockets, and through ichor-seeping holes in its' skull they hand made themselves, he scanned his surroundings. Two strange bugs, one greater than the other, an ogre, a goblin and an orc with a massive beast were somewhat facing each other, while what seemed to be inn-dwellers were fleeing the site. This was apparently the "crew". Infuriated, he swung the ghoul over his head and smashed it against the ground, the sheer force from the impact making it explode in semi-liquefied giblets.
"ARE YOU THE BUNCH OF CUNTS THE WIZARD HIRED?" It was official, this day could not get any worse.
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