Legend has it that, many years before the great blizzard, a mighty sorcerer decreed from his death bed that all the treasures he had amassed during his long lifetime would be buried with him in the family mausoleum.
Now he knew that many of his fellows were jealous of his wealth, and would seek to plunder his tomb before he even grew cold. So, as his very last act, he cast a spell to call forth the brave warriors he remembered from his childhood so long ago. These warriors had faithfully guarded the noble wizarding family for generations and for their efforts were laid to rest in an honoured corner of the family plot.
Many scoffed at this, for no other aristocrat would even entertain the notion of burying their lowly retainers alongside them, but it is said that this particular family had foreseen the great freeze and knew that, come the thaw, treasure hunters anew would seek to desecrate their tombs at a rate far exceeding the jealous tattlers of their own time.
And so the day came that the great wizard was interred, and as the final bolt of the mausoleum door was being slid home, the faithful warriors of old burst forth from the grave-soil, all picked clean bones, mouldering rainments and tattered armour. With rusted weapons they saluted the few mourners that had cared to observe the ceremony and, standing to, took their positions around the tomb.
Legend has it that they stood on guard until that fateful day when the ice came, inevitably bowing under the glacial pressure. It is also said that, now the ice has thawed, they stand on guard once more, singing a song of warning and defiance as the cold air whips and whistles through their empty skulls.
My sincere thanks to ‘Mason’; member of the Lead-Adventure Forum and proprietor of Blind Beggar Miniatures; for very kindly sending me a sprue of Mantic Revenants, from which these skeletons have creaked, clawed and crawled their way back to life.