DeletedUser
There may be a lot of them, but soulless walking corpses are scarcely a match for living men whose lifestyles revolve around combat.
The Nakurian warriors finally arrived at the border of Sargonoth. The stench of death contaminated the air, making the air nigh unbreathable. Regardless, they pressed on, not allowing a mere smell to stop them.
Midrek gave a warning to his men: "Watch yourselves, any of these stiffs could be raised at any moment."
"Wonderful", a commander responded. "How are we supposed to kill something that's already dead?"
They continued marching, with their boots crushing the brittle bones of ancient corpses. Occasionally, one of them would slash at a corpse's head with his weapon, in the hopes of preventing it from being raised.
Eventually, they spotted a Sargonothian (is that the proper adjective?) on the horizon. "Avoid contact for now", Midrek ordered. "Arm the ballistae and have your weapons at the ready, should they try anything." The warriors promptly complied, and were quickly prepared for whatever might occur.
Midrek observed the ranks of his warriors. Each man had trained for this day since they were old enough to hold a sword. Most of them had fought before, and each knew how to fight. Midrek gripped his hand-forged kamanuki, and took comfort in knowing that since it could slice through a living man, a dead one should prove little more challenging.
