Darkwalkers

Even among the beastherds, the Darkwalkers are reckoned nomads apart. They travel the hidden arteries of the Mortal Realms — the game trails and forgotten crossings that no map admits exist — moving through the wild places unseen, as though the world itself conspired to carry them. Where other greatfrays haunt a particular forest or blasted moor, the Darkwalkers belong to no single wilderness, only to the wilderness entire.

Theirs is the purest of the beast-faiths. They venerate not any Dark God by name but the untamed wild itself — the ancient savagery that was in the world before the first wall was raised and will remain when the last has fallen. To them civilization is less an enemy to be hated than a trespass to be erased, a scab of stone laid over ground that was always meant to run wild. It is their ambushes, though, that have earned them their dread. A Darkwalker attack does not build; it arrives, whole and sudden, from ground the defenders had already searched and found empty. Sentries see nothing until the beasts are upon them, pouring from tree-line and shadow with no warning cry, and the few who survive speak in the same bewildered terms — that the forest itself seemed to open its gates and let the herd through, then close silently behind once the killing was done.