The insolent manchild whom I have the shame of calling my brother is back at his antics again. Once more, he thinks himself worthy to waste perfectly fine corpses in his childish games of "NecroWarfare". But being the kind soul I am, I shall indulge him. Perhaps I'll finally be able to put him in his place. And if not, the number of fresh corpses left in the wake of his petty war games should be reparation enough for his meager efforts against me. Sure, his grotesque creations may stand as tall as three men, and are probably made of thrice that amount - But we have numbers on our side, and what numbers they are! Every death makes us stronger, and our ranks are as good alive (if you can call this alive, at least) as they are composting six feet under.
For good measure, however, I've decided to pull out all the stops on this one. A bit of recklessness goes a long way, you see, and in the truest madness lies the truest of strengths. Or something like that.
Let Geralf call me mad- Little does he know how much of a compliment that is! Better mad than whatever he is, really. My imbecile brother is no livelier than the stiffs he works with.
Ah, I'd recognize that septic stench anywhere - Here he comes now! Better get digging, dearie. Soft dirt makes for light work!
Companion Duel Deck to: Geralf
