Nagash looked deep into the realms at the innumerable battles and wars that were being played out over the Mortal Realms, watching with hawk like eyes that transcended space and time. His plans were coming together. The Necroquake had been successful. All souls will be his at the end.
A Knight of Shrouds caught his attention. It's mind was as sharp as the Sword of Stolen Hours that it was wielding. His aura of Death was as a beacon to Nagash, a bright black glow that drowned out the souls around him. He watched with interest. Rarely does a soul stand out as being as black as the one he watched now. Keldimir was it's name. Without speaking, and in the blink of a mortal eye, Nagash scoured the realms for suitable companions, souls as dark as Keldimir, with the wit, guile and servitude that would make the most of this newly found Knight of Shrouds . He found them one by one, separated by the distance of the realms as measured by men but as close as pages in a book in when viewed by Nagash. Amondor - a Lord Executioner. Grinderel - a Guardian of Souls. Rasark and Gathus, a particularly intriguing pair of Spirit Torments, brothers in life and again in Death.
Nagash weighed up his choices. Yes. These would make for a formidable Army. An army that would reap souls for Nagash and bring them back to him. For all are one in Nagash and Nagash is all.
Nagash seized their souls and bought them before him as Arkhan looked on. Keldimir bowed. "I am here, my King".
The Reaper Brigade was formed.