Captain Arcadius ventured deep into the dark forest, hidden away from any distant observer. He gobbled his supply of raw beef for sustenance - of course, he'd much prefer human flesh, but this would have to do for now. He began to speak, but to whom? Perhaps to his undead minions, perhaps to Wintival, perhaps to himself and to anyone else who happened to be lurking in the shadows.

"How fantastic. I seem to have ingratiated myself with the guild master of Daylight. This should prove very useful in getting the other vampire hunters on my side, very ussseful indeed..."

No response came, but Arcadius was absolutely fine with talking to himself. Most other skeletons he'd come across weren't the best at verbal communication.

"But now I must prove my worth. Any day now, I'm sure, there will be an attack on a vampire den. And I will need your support."

Arcadius pictured his undead warriors listening intently, stirring beneath the ground. He chuckled with arrogance.

"O my slumbering troops! How I've waited to command you once again!"

He was tempted to raise the whole battalion, to bask in all its glory. But that would be foolish, he reasoned. The troops would be weak. There wasn't a camp built for them. And perhaps a member of the guild would get the wrong idea and slaughter them all.

No, he decided, he'd raise two of his swordsmen instead. That way, he'd gain some protection, so that those idiotic bags of flesh wouldn't go breaking his bones again, and it'd demonstrate his power to the vampire hunters.

"O Moon! O Wintival! O Mother of the Night! I call upon thee, to raise two fine skeletal swordsmen from your domain! Let them be dense in their bone, and unwavering in their loyalty!"

He snapped his bony fingers and cried, "Awaken!"

Nothing happened, but his finger broke off and fell into the dirt unceremoniously.