Necropolis Stalkers are what the Mortisans build when an enemy must not merely be beaten but dismantled. Each towers over a mortal warrior on a column of fused vertebrae, four blades in four hands, and wears four masks — behind each a different blended champion-soul. One face is cold precision, one howling wrath, one immovable defense, one a pure sentence of execution. The Stalker turns its head, and becomes a different kind of killer.
Fighting one is fighting a council of masters that confers at the speed of thought. Swordsmen who survive describe the same worst moment: the pause, the grind of bone on bone, the new face. The Mortisan orders consider the Stalkers their masterpiece of soul-blending — proof that enough great warriors, boiled down to essence, can be recast as one perfect one.
Order of battle
