While not undead themselves, these
corpseherds bear down on the aftermath of battle
fields, reanimating the strewn dead and consuming
the irreparable. These beings loom up eight
feet, headless with unreadable faces set in
their chests, mumbling to each other as they
collect their cattle and return to the hills.
"And portance in my travels' history;
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads
It was my hint to speak- such was the process-
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders."