Even in death, the Revenant Phalanx stand unbroken. Clad in heavy steel and bearing towering pavise shields, they form a wall of iron and bone, their long spears bristling like the fangs of some feral beast. No foe will find an opening, no blade will slip past their guard, for discipline has outlived mortal flesh, and their formation holds as firm as it did in life.
In Calden’s violent past, it was they who barred the rebellion’s ascent, holding the narrow mountain paths in the final days of the uprising. Rank upon rank, they stood their ground as waves of desperate warriors crashed against them, cutting down countless souls before sheer attrition ground them backward, step by bitter step. But though their line was broken, they did not fall. The curse binds them still, and so they march, ever watchful, waiting for the day they might once again form an unbreachable wall in their lord’s name.
