Few bone constructs unsettle the soul like Crypt Mages, whose twisted frames echo with remnants of true sorcery. The bones chosen for their assembly once belonged to creatures of great magical power, and fragments of that arcane strength remain bound within. Their hollow eye sockets flicker with sickly green sparks, as if haunted by lingering spells, their skeletal fingers twitch as if still weaving mystical signs. They cast not with studied discipline but with a feral instinct, the primal reflex of a predator that has learned to claw with unholy power.