Gathering Intel

"General Loimos, all of the living soldiers have perished" reported a putrefied undead that seemed to have been ground up under the wheels of a carriage.

Loimos was standing in the middle of a large room, cluttered with objects of all kinds, magical devices, mechanical contraptions, lights, smoke and steam pouring out from the machines as dozens upon dozens of undeads moved around like industrious ants, pulling levers and pushing buttons, collecting intel through the now deceased drafted soldiers.

Although devoid of death force, the equipment worn by the living soldiers was still of undead conception, conceived in the guts of the empire's forges, and many would claim- Undead genius is the world's finest.

As such, every piece of equipment being equipped with what someone clueless might mistake for a rough form of intelligence, but it really was simply that many reactions to different situations had been ingrained into its very fabric, weaves and metalworking.