Called up from untold centuries of death, they emerged from their tombs and pyramids at the command of Sutekh-Ra, the Ever-Living, the Thrice-Damned, the Wizard that Dies Not. The Necromancer, his empty eye sockets glowing balefully, gave the command to march, and his legion of the damned did. By his side, the acolyte Skelos-Ptah, of an older vintage than his master but less schooled in the ways of sorcery.
By the signs of Sutekh-Ra's ancient sorcery will you know them. When the ice turns to shifting desert sand and black-shelled beetles the size of a man's fist flit through the air, you will know you have entered the presence of Ancient Spirits of Evil...
|three Thugs for Frostgrave.|
|three Men-at-Arms. Did you expect Sutekh-Ra to employ Thieves and Treasure-Hunters?|