The earth of Wraeclast rejects the dead. The black spirit of storm and dream now reaches into the ground and raises up our slain imperial foes. It leads the fallen from their graves and drives them to fight us beyond the end, rotted tooth and jagged nail. Our own Remembered have joined their cursed ranks. No longer may we give our beloved to the birds, messengers of spirit to the sky, conveyors of flesh to the earth. Kaom has commanded us to destroy our Remembered with axe and fire. Kaom is the bravest of us, willing to bear the ire of the Ancestors for the survival of his people.