Dreams are, by definition, cursed with short life spans.

White hot lightning bombarded the battlefield and struck all parties with equal likelihood. Caligari was spared, but two of her more meaty zombies were not so lucky. They caught fire and continued fighting the good fight, spreading blaze and discord with every sweep of their arms. They could not go on indefinitely in this manner, but none of the zombies would last much longer. It was a tricky balance between longevity and influence. Keeping them under her control meant the struggle burnt them out all the sooner. Had she cast them lose to terrorize at random they’d last much longer, but the party of prophecy would not thank her any for that.

Despite being obligated to remain within the confines of the protective ward and somewhat removed from the worst of the fighting, Caligari felt the destruction of each soldier in her undead infantry. Not in a tantamount sense perhaps, but she had pulled each of their souls back from the underworld and poured life into their bodies. It was a protracted series of mournful moments seeing them collapse one by one. The aberrant darkness staining the skin around her eyes was not as permanent as many may think and Caligari had black streaks working their way down her cheeks as she wept for her fallen partners.

Like a weaver selecting her thread, she shifted the last two tendrils from her left hand and linked them to those remaining in her right. She took a good hold and cracked them like a whip, sending the zombies into one last fit of frenzy. With her left she charged up another globe of necrotic energy and scoured the field for a suitable target. Her criteria weren’t all that refined. So long as she didn’t recognize them from the few minutes of observation over the party she’d assume they were one of the bad guys. She found one wearing the Sisters of Old attire who was rounding up a male from the Legion. Caligari spit into her outstretched hand and it sent the green globe into a frenzy of its own.

“Curse you for killing my babies!” She propelled the ball of energy through the air and watched with satisfaction as it navigated the field and found its mark. The exposed skin of the Sister’s neck caught the attack and began to sizzle and fume as it dripped away. The screaming was like music to the necromancer’s ears. She jumped up and down almost in unison with her prey whose neck and shoulder muscles were turning to liquid and running down the length of her body. It wasn’t long before the head fell free all together and the body toppled forward in the snow.

Caligari barked out a loud, harsh laugh and blew that bunch of sisters a filthy kiss.