The Revenant Hounds prowl the ruins of Calden, their spectral eyes burning with an immortal fury. Twisted by the same curse that binds the keep’s warriors, these beasts know no rest. Their hides are riddled with jagged spears and broken pikes, remnants of the desperate battle that saw their deaths. In their unlife they do not bleed, nor do they falter, only hunger, only hunt. Their gnarled fangs and rust-red claws tear through flesh as easily as they once did in life, driven by an eternal, insatiable rage.
The Lord of Calden adored his hounds, for they embodied the virtues he most admired: savagery, loyalty, and an unrelenting thirst for the kill. When the rebellion stormed the castle, the beasts were among the last to fall, throwing themselves into the fray with wild abandon. Spear after spear found their mark, yet still, they tore down rebel after rebel, their final moments a blood-soaked frenzy of gnashing teeth and shattered bone. Now, in death, they remain as they were, unstoppable, remorseless, forever hunting.
