The Crows are Restless Traveler
For the Earth where the Dead lay buried under have been Disturbed... but not by any Living Creature...no, but by the Foulest Magic.
Magic of which no Mortal can withstand but will Succumb to and become one with Living Death and Decay. Damnable they shall become and Exiled to the Farthest Reaches of Hell where even the Lord of the Fiery Chasms of Hell will look down upon them with utmost Hatred and Disgust.
Look how the Clouds Darken and the most Coldest of Raindrops Descend upon the World Heralding the Emergence of the NecroHorde who shall shamble from their Graves and Plague all who are Living.
No Army can withstand this Legion of Undeath for once a Living Warrior falls by the Savage and Relentless hands of the Living Dead then they will Rise as one of them And turn on their former living Bretheren and Consume all that is Life and Purity.
They shall Utter no Words that Mortal ears can understand but will spout out an Unholy Language which no Scholar will Dare Write down on Parchment.
Gibbering and Gabbering they will March upon each and every City and spread their Sickness and Foul Ichor across the World until not even a Animal is left to be utterly Feasted upon.
The Skin of the Slain will be Material for their Banners Marked with a Crimson Bleeding Symbol of Destruction and they shall Beat upon Drums with the Bones of the Unfortunate Slain.
Leading them shall be Riders Cloaked in Tattered Funeral Garments Rotten and covered in the Fresh Earth of the Grave and dropping from their Garments will be Countless Maggots and other Unmentionable Creatures of the Decaying Earth.
Their Weapons will be Cruel and Twisted leaving those Pierced and Slashed by them Writhing on the Ground in Hellish Agony. Beasts long Hidden from the World shall be their Mounts and Allies Ripping and Tearing those fighting against the Living Dead to Shreds.
Oh what Woe shall come to this land Traveler for when the Crows are Restless so too are the Dead.