9.87 Pestilence

The practitioner of Pestilence is armed where ever they may walk, for their
weapons are not of steel or bronze but of chitin and plague. In the darkness 
the chittering nightmares wait, enthralled to the will of their benefactor. 
When the skies turn black and the myriad eyes open, one thing can be certain: 
it is time to feast and there is enough for all.
 
The sorcerer who raises swarms to do their bidding may wield them in many ways.
Be it simply sending them to sting their enemies or blot out the sky, drown 
their enemies on dry land or feast from within, one thing can be certain: the
Pariah's fist is manifold, and it will fall on countless wings.