Genocide
Rabite Forest
October 11 of the Year 349
Mana Holy Day 3:27 am
The miniature genocide within the fountain had proven to be a most useful
tactic. Skeletal figures ripped themselves free from the tiny corpses with
a satisfying *crunch* at the word of the cloaked figure standing before
them.
The skeletons looked roughly like one would expect from an undead fairy. Small bony figures, roughly 5 inches in height, floating off the ground with disjointed wings, a small membrane of fairy dust arcing across them.
A chorus of oddly cheerful, miniature voices, greeted their master. "Skeletal Troops! Reporting for duty!"
It was disarming to hear such glee from the walking dead.
The dark figure stepped forward and pointed to a few of the strongest within the group. "You five, you will be my generals. What are your names?"
"Titania!", "Tinkerbell!", "Tatl!", "Tael!", "Navi!" "We are ready at your command!"
The figure simply put a hand to his face and shook his head. The gods, it seemed, had a sense of humor. No matter, they would work just fine for what he had planned.