That night, when the dead rose and began to groan, I had been awoken by an annoyed Anput, the Jackalkin sighing as she gestured for me to grab my gear.
The others were also swiftly scraping on their armor and weapons, all while we listened to the slowly approaching horde of undead.
Exchanging glances, Anput muttered "Why the hell didn't we burn them?"
Nirinia responded with a yawn, the Knight looking bored as we began to climb up our tower, the other soldiers looking as tired and unenthusiastic as we were.
"Can't. Too much magic expended, and it leaves us open to another attack. Sadly, this is a common tactic amongst the larger, yet weaker armies. Send a probing attack and hope that the undead that rise afterwards can deal some damage. Though..."
Reaching the top, the Djinn sighed as she gestured over the pitch black plain, which was filled with the eery groans and occasional glimmer of metal under the dim light of the moons.
