An Old Ally

"You really are letting those two struggle, I thought it was exaggeration but those poor undeadlings are really left on their own" bony feet walking upon pure iron, one hand behind the back, the other holding on a jagged, rocky staff, the end of it tapping alongside the skeleton's steps, a slight crack still lingering upon his skull, every bones clearly dusty and ancient.

Dressed in a brand new brown robe, with white and black stripes decorating its surface, once bare hands now decorated by rings of silver and precious metals rich with elemental earth mana, a simple brooch upon the chest, denoting this undead's particular rank as a personal guard of the king.