"What do you want, undead." Arad growled, standing up and staring at a seemingly tiny skeletal monster. "I can already smell that you aren't up to any good."
Boronos bowed slightly, "I'm the one nicknamed the sweeping death, Boronos the elder lick. I've lived for centuries and mastered necrotic magic to its utmost limit." He tapped and waved his crusty fingers and a large staff with a skull on its top appeared in his palm. He tapped it on the ground, spawning a large army of zombies, skeletons, ghouls, and even ghosts and wraiths. "I'm hailed as a world power, a master of necromancy. I'm believed to be able to destroy the world by generating an undead apocalypse."
"I can smell the rot around your bones. For what reason did you come to me?" Arad glared at Boronos, growling with fire gushing from his nose.
