Two men shrouded in darkness strode through the remains of a campsite. Tents ripped to pieces. Coals strewn across the dirt, hints of heat lingering within. The defining feature had to be the remains decorating the ground with streaks of red and organs. The smell didn’t bother either of them. One had no perception of smell, and the other had grown numb to it all.

The dark lord felt comfortable inside Ruvan's body. It fit him like a second skin.

“Make sure I'm not disturbed while I bring new life to these unfortunate travelers.”

Dark knight Feno pounded a fist to his chest and said, “Yes, sir.”

Ruvan let his aura swell and encompass the dead. Shadows drifted like smoke dragging the bodies, stuffing their insides back inside, and reattaching limbs. He poured a little extra energy into the missing chunks of flesh to rebuild them. His mutated shadow beasts needed to eat, after all. A final push infused his new minions with undead life.

Feno watched the dead with Ruvan. He delighted in the newest group of cannon fodder that were pushing themselves up without a sound. His brand heated, snapping him out of his revelry. Attention focused on Ruvan walking away, he ran to join, undead shuffling behind them.

They arrived with the rest of the hoard milling about in the dark next to the rest of Feno's elite fighters chosen from the remaining nomads and infused with power from the thumbprint brand on their foreheads.

“Report.”

An elf ran up, took a knee, and said, “We located a roaming tribe. Everything is ready, my lord. We eliminated the night watch. They won’t rotate for several hours.”

Absorbing the location from the warrior's mind via the brand, Ruvan sent his undead loose. His army sprinted into the night, a wave of death ready to devour and add to their ranks. All the unaware elves needed to do was die.

Feno diverted his subordinates to the other side so they could cut off any who attempted to flee.

A surge in despair, sadness, and rage flooded the air, giving the undead a burst of energy and sending them into a frenzy. The cries of pain faded into the background. A futile effort against an unwavering disaster.

An ebb in newly created dark energy told Ruvan it was time to do his part. When he reached the perimeter, his dark knight ran up to report.

“We are searching for any survivors hiding among the dead. I instructed the undead to surround us and kill any who evaded detection and tried to escape.”

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Flowing around the dead like a child on their birthday, Ruvan hummed with delight. The center where the defenders made their last stand had the highest concentration of death in the air. He stretched out his aura until every corpse entered his field of vision. Focused on his craft, he began playing with his new toys.

Despite not being able to salvage a few of his older toys, the dozens of fresh bodies made up for the loss. “Join your new friends. Let the ground tremble before your might.”

Shouts erupted all over, only to be silenced by Feno and his elite spread out in search of the living with the help of the undead. Ingenuity in the face of death deserved a reward. He gathered the lucky few and gifted them with a greater purpose. Bones and flesh stretched and snapped into his most hated rival. A pack of mutated wolves emerged hidden beneath a layer of shadows.

Gifting his newest collection to Feno, Ruvan sent a command to all under his influence.

“Our task is complete. Return home.”

As he waited for another tribe to be located, Ruvan spent his free time sculpting one of his toys into a superior undead with bone blades sprouting from its shoulders where its arms used to be. He increased its ability to stay silent by replacing the feet with padded paws, claws, and all.

I shall call you a Reaper.

“I apologize for interrupting you, master, but we have visitors.”

Annoyed, Ruvan looked over at Feno and asked, “What visitors? Did more undead show up without my knowledge?”

“They call themselves the Gwanith. A collection of murderers and outcasts who find pleasure in causing pain. They introduced themselves by executing a recent deserter and tossing the head at the gate.”

Amused at the show of cruelty, Ruvan ordered his newest creation to stay by his side. “Come, my knight. We shall test our guests at the altar. If they show promise, you can have them. It takes guts to walk around a hoard of undead.”

Reaper on his left, Feno to the right, Ruvan opened his arms in greeting. “Welcome to Felis Auxry. For the audacity to survive long enough to enter my domain, I shall give you a chance to join my army before I kill you all and add you to my army. There is a catch, though. I need sacrifices to fuel my power, and you’re the only ones around worth killing."

The elf in the front turned around, slicing the head off the nearest elf, and looked at Ruvan expectantly.

He shook his head and pointed to the altar. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I need you to use the altar. The more they suffer, the less of you need to die. That first one didn’t count.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Grabbing the fellow next to the corpse who flinched by the shirt, he smashed their nose in with the butt of his sword and dragged them to the altar. “The first two who hold him down won’t be the next."

Time slowed down between the screams and the shattering of bones. A true artisan at work who knew how to maximize pain hitting nothing vital. They would be perfect additions to his elite squad.

“Line up and stand before me so that I may grant you the power you desire.”

Each of his recruits welcomed the gift except one, who recoiled at his touch, bolting for the gate. Reaper shot past in a blur of speed, slicing down at an angle with both bone sword arms cutting clean through from the neck down to the hips.

“Dark knight, take command of your new warriors. Show them what it means to be a member of my army.”

Fist slammed to his chest Feno said, “Yes, sir. With pleasure.”

Mind drifting back to the Reaper, Ruvan recalled his new toy already thinking of how to improve them before replicating his work.

“No rest for the wicked, is there?”