The Limbs of the North.
First cold fingers then bloodied hands. Limp arms then flesh deprived legs- breaking the earth as if it was but the crust of a pastry, pushing themselves up and out of their graves. The frozen corpses twitched and groaned standing on the broken icy ground, risen from their silent rest, they looked toward their summoning master. Livlos stood in the centre of the expanding ice sheet as it passed over the ground, stopping the swaying tall grass in its motion and raising the dead beneath it. His face was unusually emotionless as he turned the words in his mouth, slowly letting their magic leak out and onto the ancient battlefield.
Most commoners believe that the risen dead serve their master with up most loyalty, leading to their ultimate re-death. This is, however, untrue. This was discovered by Hulor the naive, the apprentice of the first necromancer Sethis. After summoning the 3 men he had just slaughtered during an ambush, he ordered them to follow his every command, to which they replied with the blades of their swords, impolitely stuck into his torso.
The un-dead must be bargained with. They are shells of their past bodies; a paladin will refuse to serve an evil overlord, just as a criminal will refuse to serve the state who executed it. The promise of blood (which all un-dead crave after reanimation) is usually enough for warriors such as those Livlos had just brought back.
Their bodies may be ancient, but their skills are as honed as they were when they died, and they knew how to follow orders. Speaking in their tongue he gave his proposition of war, blood and glory Most complied and pledged their arms, those that didn’t he gave the opportunity to experience the world once more as the others prepared and he himself donned his armour, packed supplies and gathered his components.
As they drew further from those left at the burial place, they began to drop one at a time, Livlos’ power left their bodies and returned to him, he felt it in the back of his eyes as he gripped the mane of his dark stallion and pulled himself upon it. He and his corpses marched up the northern trail, at least 200 strong.
The Northern men would soon feel the icy blade of revenge. Livlos’ Orcish canines stuck from his bottom jaw over his top lip as he grinned at the thought of human blood spilled. Soon the Orc tribes would also bow to his power.
I joke, I'm as pretty as an ass' ass.)