The Terrorgheist is the nightmare at the top of the gravetide's food chain: a colossal undead bat, ragged-winged and rot-blown, that kills without needing to touch. Its death-shriek bursts hearts and shatters minds across whole regiments, and the tattered holes in its wings seem only to make it faster — as if the thing flies on hunger rather than air.
In life the great cave-bats of Shyish gorged and slept; in undeath the hunger remains and the sleep does not. The Gravelords loose them the way mortal generals loose artillery, and a legion's approach is often announced by the silence a Terrorgheist leaves behind it — garrisons found unmarked at their posts, faces frozen, hearts stopped in their chests.