The undead are patient

The undead are waiting. They are patient for they are eternal. Eternal like the Erernal himself Garvan, our King. We await his return so that he may once again lead the army into battle with an iron hand. 

You will trouble at this stature, for he is a giant, a giant who crushes his enemies under his iron boots, twice the siege of high Barnfield. Legend has it that with his wide strides he crosses the battlefield at lightning speed and before you know it he is standing in front of the enemy’s chest, ready to part him with his sword. 

It is also said, that he once cut ten men in half with a single sword stroke, straight down the middle, and with his backhand did the same again zo those who came after him. This sight caused such fear in the enemy army that all preferred zo choose suicide right abar. 

The name alone causers terror in the hearts of the doubters, makes them wake up again from sleep in a sweat, because Garvan is there too, always Garvan, threatening them with death. For the Eternal also invades the dreams of the wicked to foretell them that they will soon be dead.