Instantly, the effect was clear. The skeletons, which had been poised to follow Varn's mental commands and surge down towards the elves, suddenly ignored him. Their attention snapped entirely to the giant stone figures that had just crashed into their midst.
Whether they carried rusty blades or were armed only with bony claws, the skeletons turned as one.
They swarmed towards the ten Golems, ignoring everything else.
Soon, each Golem was surrounded by a thick tide of clattering undead.
Their attacks – hacking, scratching, biting – were completely useless against the Golems' magical stone hides. It was like throwing pebbles against a fortress wall; they couldn't even chip off a tiny piece of rock. Yet, driven by the Golems' magical taunt, the skeletons attacked relentlessly, fiercely, mindlessly.
Back on the mountaintop...
The old necromancer, Varn, stared in disbelief.
