Captain Rengwal wiped the blood caked dirt from his face and reached forward. Clasping the hand of one of his Imperial men, desperately trying to pull his mangled body across the corpse-ridden mud. He pulled his loyal soldiers hand free from its body. Rengwal attempted to form sounds with his mouth as his mind reeled in horror. Then came the howling. A sound claimed the night as its chosen hunting ground. The moon’s light parted the clouds above revealing a trail adorned with gore. It was not over. Frantically Rengwal tried to crawl for cover. He focused on fighting back the sounds of his men being eviscerated, screaming, and begging for mercy.
Finally, after what seemed hours, he found shelter under a large fallen tree. Covering himself with branches, Rengwal fought to regain his sanity. Darkness given talons and fangs, he thought, shadows worn like a thick hide. The breath on his neck was meant to tell him his life would end soon, like a candle snuffed out by darkness. It was behind him, breathing, waiting for him to scream. Instead came sobs of resignation as Captain Rengwal counted the last moments of his life. "You mourn for the pain before death" the voice came in a growl, "for you are not the herd, you shall receive agony for your transgressions, know what it means to be hunted Imperial, and know that you die in shame."
– "Ripper" Deathmaw Moonsworn
The Moonsworn are the chosen predators of Shadowmaw. Half-man and half wolf, they stalk the night as the embodiment of the hunt. The Moonsworn personify the terror of prey, the howling darkness, the eerie calm before becoming nourishment for another animal. With the clarity of primal instincts, they embrace the night, the moon, and their heritage as merciless killers. The Moonsworn are born resembling humans, a form they shed when the hunt calls to them at a young age. From that point on they begin their life striving to live between two worlds. In one they are a member of the Herd, and in the other the Hunt calls to them. They do this to serve Shadowmaw. The Moon gazes upon them, ever watchful, reminding them of their sorrow, and inspiring them to greatness. Just as it changes shape through the night, so do they, and for each of its faces a lineage of Moonsworn find their calling.