Amun stood in one of his many ritual rooms, lit with candles in a pentacle. There were magical runes scrawled over almost all of the wall’s surface and they glowed with a sickly green light. They were to aid in raising the dead, making them stronger and faster than they would be otherwise. Months had gone into crafting this room, and it wasn’t even his true ritual room. There were hundreds in his underground facility, and the biggest and most valuable had taken Amun years to finish, but that room was reserved for creating the most powerful of undead, and these were unworthy of it. Before Amun was a pile of corpses half skinned, and half had everything but the skeleton removed, revealing all the gristle and muscle beneath. Chanting the words of power and calling upon his magic he channeled it into the bodies. The runes glowed brighter until they were almost blinding, and the candles flickered dangerously, threatening to go out. A foul wind stirred the room, whipping his robes about, despite them being a mile underground.
Raising his arm and claw into the air, his chanting crescendoed as he reached the climax of the casting. The corpses twitched as lines of power flowed from Amun and the runes on the walls into them. Upon the final word of the casting, the bodies went into powerful seizures, before subsiding about a minute later. Amun lowered his arms, breathing heavily. It took effort to raise 26 corpses at once, especially to more than just shambling, mostly useless zombies. The newly created boneclaws stirred, then rose, first noting they only had three fingers, then growing and shrinking their claws experimentally. One accidentally skewered another when it grew it’s claw out to ten feet, to no detriment of the impaled. Amun grinned with the half of his face that was still there, and began chanting a binding spell. Upon its completion, the assembled horde of boneclaws stood silently, awaiting orders. Lifting himself off the ground, Amun spoke.
“Follow.”
He rotated midair and willed himself forward, towards one of his training rooms. Nibbler, who had been waiting outside, happily jumped onto Amun, clambering up to his shoulder. After feeding Nibbler a piece of meat, he whispered to Biter.
“Fetch me the damphir, it is time she began her true training.”
Nibbler hopped of and scurried away to find her. It would probably take him a while, but Amun knew Nibbler would retrieve her. Of all his servants, Nibbler was unusually competent, and almost never failed in a task, no matter what it was. Strangely intelligent for his kind, there was no confusion as to why he was head of the pack, and if any other ghouls grew unruly or tested him, he would ferociously tear into them until they backed off, whimpering. Amun grinned. Nibbler was definitely his favorite.
Upon reaching the training room, Amun took a seat in the throne he had had his undead carved into almost every room. Ordering the boneclaws to flank him evenly on either side, Amun waited.
Raising his arm and claw into the air, his chanting crescendoed as he reached the climax of the casting. The corpses twitched as lines of power flowed from Amun and the runes on the walls into them. Upon the final word of the casting, the bodies went into powerful seizures, before subsiding about a minute later. Amun lowered his arms, breathing heavily. It took effort to raise 26 corpses at once, especially to more than just shambling, mostly useless zombies. The newly created boneclaws stirred, then rose, first noting they only had three fingers, then growing and shrinking their claws experimentally. One accidentally skewered another when it grew it’s claw out to ten feet, to no detriment of the impaled. Amun grinned with the half of his face that was still there, and began chanting a binding spell. Upon its completion, the assembled horde of boneclaws stood silently, awaiting orders. Lifting himself off the ground, Amun spoke.
“Follow.”
He rotated midair and willed himself forward, towards one of his training rooms. Nibbler, who had been waiting outside, happily jumped onto Amun, clambering up to his shoulder. After feeding Nibbler a piece of meat, he whispered to Biter.
“Fetch me the damphir, it is time she began her true training.”
Nibbler hopped of and scurried away to find her. It would probably take him a while, but Amun knew Nibbler would retrieve her. Of all his servants, Nibbler was unusually competent, and almost never failed in a task, no matter what it was. Strangely intelligent for his kind, there was no confusion as to why he was head of the pack, and if any other ghouls grew unruly or tested him, he would ferociously tear into them until they backed off, whimpering. Amun grinned. Nibbler was definitely his favorite.
Upon reaching the training room, Amun took a seat in the throne he had had his undead carved into almost every room. Ordering the boneclaws to flank him evenly on either side, Amun waited.