"Not all bones are good bones. Mortals who take good care of themselves often have superior bones to those who don't. Deformity is another thing to consider as well as the age and how long its been decomposing. After all that one must consider the location the bones are found, is it damp, how much light can reach the bones at any given point of the day. After all these questions are answered can a necromancer decide whether or not these bones are prime specimen."

- Axus Dur Gonavez, The Black Lord of the West

Conafex(From) frestus(Earth) neyet(We) proecras(Rise) des(And) fex(To) frestus(Earth) neyet(We)punccras(Fall)

- Necromancers Creed

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The land was a corpse. On this spot the last battle against the Black Lord Axus Dur Gonavez took place. On these lands sat his accursed tower. On these lands, the dead rise once more to recreate a battle of long ago. This accursed Plagued land of Axus. The earth rumbled and shook, and from the earth, bones rose and took hold against other bones. Pure white bodies of horse and men appeared along this plain of death. Eerie light shone from their eyes, Rusty wretched blades were held into the sky. The monsters on horses pointed their blade forward, their ornate rusted armor gleaning once more in the light, and the bloodless carnage ensued.

Silent battle cries rang out, the clacking of bones and the thundering of hooves. The rustling of old armor of a forgotten time as the two armies collided. Ancient steel upon ancient steel as the play unfolded as it had for time immemorial and for as this the hours of the night came to an end, and as the rise of the sun came, the dead returned to sleep once more. As this battle took many days and nights to conclude, it never would see its climax on this plane of existence. Such were these cursed ones, forever to play out but the start of this fight they perished upon.

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The bones began falling back to the earth, but the skeletons kept going unawares, as the sun's face fell upon the world, a single skeleton remained. The flames in its eyes stared blankly ahead as if waiting for its own return. The head turned to the sun and it sat down on the earth watching the sun in its glory, as still as the rock. It had been freed from its eternal nightmare at last. The creature of bone stayed watching the sun pass its zenith, and watched as night came. The head turned as it watched for his comrades to rise again, but nothing rose. However, on the third day, the ground shook once more. Bones rose and the armies took stance, and too did this skeleton rise as well, moving to take its place with its fellow deceased. 

However no horn was blown, neither side made a move. It was pure eerie silence, with not even the skeletal horses poking at the ground. There was no tension in the air, it was if the two armies didn't exist at all, the clouds continued to float by and the moon shone faintly in the sky.  Like his foes and comrades, this skeleton too stood in its spot silent and unmoving. However time passed and it began to look around a bit, uncertain what to do without its commander's orders. It moved from its spot, approaching his squad captain, who's black flame eyes stared off into some distance. the skeleton moved its head in front of the captain, and the flames moved to look at the skeleton, before returning back, ignoring it once more.

If it had flesh still, the skeleton would likely frown in uncertainty. It wasn't ordered to go back to its position, nor was it met with inquiry. Just simply ignored like it was a passing leaf on the midsummer's breeze. Thus the skeleton approached the enemy camp, it crept slowly up, making cautious steps in case it needed to immediately begin running back. Slowly, step by step...inch by inch. Minutes, and possibly hours passed. When the night sky began to give away to day, and the bones returned to the Earth. All but the skeleton who had only managed to move twelve feet towards the enemy encampment, in four hours.

Very impressive, for a skeleton that is.