A chorus of wolves howled into the storm above the Red Abbey, as if eager to usher in their rising lord, or perhaps greeting the full gaze of Morrslieb. Then, with the wolves sad lament ending as thunder rolled across the sky, another cry was given, so like the thunder it could easily have been lost. Where the song of the wolves had been welcoming, or perhaps sad, this roar was thick with rage and the promise of carnage. To anyone who might have heard that echo of destruction and looked up at the Chaos moon, they might have seen, ever so faintly, a pulse from it as if it had heard the roar and welcomed it.
Clawed hands and feet, now more like paws and claws ran faster than any horse through the dark forests of Sylvania, the massive black shapes illuminated only for a moment under the green glow of the Chaos moon.
Rage drove them on through the night. What had begun as a hunt fueled by anger at their betrayal had transformed with the rising of Morrslieb into a terrifying rampage through the night as these primordial predators of mankind's nightmares hurtled forwards.
All conscience thought had been stripped from them and been replaced with nothing but animal impulses as the radiation from the Chaos Moon saturated their bodies.
Geheimnisnacht promised Vampires magical strength for their spells. To the werewolves, it promised unmitigated destruction as their physical body was fueled by the magic saturating the world.
The pack suddenly halted in its mad dash across the lands as one of their number suddenly roared in pain. His name was Müller, but their minds where so far removed from sentience that such monikers where utterly forgotten.
The abominably huge wolf-creature reared upon its recurved hind legs, his massive shoulders and arms rippling as they tried to contain the unearthly energies coursing through them.
Müller howled and clawed at his face as his body changed, spikes of bone burst from his spine as it grew larger under the foul warping influence of chaos, the wounds instantly repairing themselves so fast not a single drop of blood fell from him.
The other two members of the pack growled and circled him. Their rage needed an outlet and they where by no means above slaughtering their own.
Müller snapped at them suddenly, making the smaller female who was named Hati jump back yelping and the black-pelted monster named Völundr back away a step.
The three of them froze for a moment then, under the dappled green light of the moon, a cold wind passing through the trees, the scent of the world carried on it.
Then the moment was broken as with impossible, unearthly speed the three creatures dashed back into the hunt. They didn't comprehend it, not by a long shot, but they could feel the spell the Von Carsteins where forging and they could smell it on the wind.
They where close...
Then a skeleton appeared in front of them as they hurtled past the tree line.
The human corpse disintegrated as Müller hit it, not even slowed by the bones, but he stopped and reared up on his hind legs, his two compatriots halting also.
A vast legion of the undead stretched out before them.
Their rage was unleashed with a titanic roar, with fang and claw.
