The undead's bony feet scraped against the ground, fingers and toes twitching at an odd tempo, bringing his hands together, just in front of the heavily faded emblem drawn directly onto the front of his robe, a sign of having once belonged to the now inactive army of the dead.
"Loimos, get over here will you? You should be done on your end" turning to a dark corner, where a motionless figure laid on its knees, head tilted back, arms completely limp, dressed into an antique armour, similarly touched by the decay of time as was the attire of the skeleton, the suit of protective gear jolted into motion, a sudden twitch, a dark purplish glow coming out of the thin slits of the helm for a brief instant.
Rising up only using its legs.
