We felt the desire to hunt, to chase and to run, like we felt our own beating hearts. We did not lose our minds, it was more subtle than that, but a lot of us bounced on the back of their heels, fidgeted with their weapons or just walked around in nervous circles, eager to use the unspent energy.

It did have its drawbacks. There was anger and shouting in the camp. Especially between the humans and the Wyldlings. But even there it was just a way to blow off steam, nothing too serious. Sleep was found with difficulties, but the dreams...the dreams were something else. I ran with the wolves. I stalked my prey through the eyes of a big cat. And I ruled over my territory like the White Beast, majestic, unfazed by the squabbles and threats of all those creatures beneath him. I did not dream of violence. I dreamt of hunting and running, chasing and stalking. The thrill of it all.

What yesterday had been a subdued feeling in the group was now, the next day, an open expression of unrest. The group was ready, metaphorically pulling at their leashes. I wanted to act! I wanted to go!

The weather was cloudy when we finally began to run. Not in a full sprint or charge, but in a controlled tempo that would carry us for many miles. The rational part of my brain tried to pinpoint the effect of the major Skill that affected us since last night. It was not just a feeling. It was not just a common goal that united us. I felt fresh, even after running for an hour or two, even after climbing and jumping from isle to isle. I felt alert to my surroundings, even more than I ever had with [Favorite Terrain: Mountains]. Or rather: My awareness was improved by that much. And I knew where the other hunters were. We hunted as one. We were one.

I ran with the humans, seeing them struggle mentally with their newfound emotions and sensations. The Wyldlings had no such problems. They all knew versions of that Skill, or even the very same Skill, given that Cogar was now their [Chieftain] and may very well have used it on them before.

The miles melted under our feet, the terrain not an obstacle but an asset to be used in our hunt. We ran for the center of the mountains, the spot where we had seen the campfires as we fought against the Wyldlings on the summit of that mountain. And somehow we knew it to be the right spot. Not a word was exchanged between us, and yet we understood each other.

We only halted when we heard surprised shouting out of the group behind us. We turned, needing a second to clear our heads from the rush of the run, and saw Kara gesturing wildly, as beside her the underbrush exploded into action. The branches were moving, striking even, the whole bush was rustling and swaying.

Kara unslung her bone club and jumped into the bush, hitting something in the shadows repeatedly. As we ran to her, she had already turned back, sweating and clearing her club from soot and some kind of black ash.

“The spirits I asked to watch out for us,“ she panted from exertion, “found something. A scout of Barak. A shadow spirit. My nature spirit attacked it. If he has them spread all around, he may know that we are coming.“

“He knows.“ I said. “He will have sent them out all over the mountains.“

“That is impossible.“ Kara said. “I have killed this one with [Spiritual Weapon]. Even the best [Shamans] can handle a handful of spirits at best. He cannot have many left.“

“You have not seen what he can do.“ It was Manus that had stepped up. “I have. My sword brothers and I were swarmed by something I would have thought to be spirits of shadow, even if we did not know the name or what they were. We thought the hells itself had opened up to swallow us whole. Only the best of us could even harm them.“

“It will not happen again. He might have a few spirits, but nothing like the spirit of the fire that manifested yesterday, called to the fight by the pillars of flame. He will have to defend himself this time.“ Kara said with the promise of violence in her eyes.

“We are close.“ Cogar said. “I can feel my prey. This will be the last moment of rest.“

“Are we clear on the plan, then?“ I asked around, everybody nodded.

“Grim takes his shots, draws a few of them out.“ Manus recited. „The Bear Clan take them in an ambush, then storm the camp, draw out the rest of the elites. We go around. Wait for the battle to start and go for Barak. Go in quick, do not let him invoke his magics.“

“You will get your opening.“ Cogar nodded. “And I will join you in battle, brother. But my hunters are no match for the elites. We can take a lot, thanks to our [Battle Forms], but we will not beat them.“

“Do not overreach just to get to my fight, Cogar. You will retreat with your hunters when the pressure gets too high. Retreat, regroup and try again. Even if you retreat the warriors of the Snake Clan may follow you and leave Barak undefended. It is a win for us nonetheless.“

Cogar nodded, he had known the plan, but still wasn’t quite happy.

“You will hold off the spirits, Kara.“ I said, she had missed the opportunity to speak up.

“Yes, yes. We have talked about this a hundred times. You will get your chance.“ She rolled her eyes. “And I will, too. I will kill that beast with my own hands if I must.“

“You will take your shots and get out.“ I turned to Grim, who nodded. „Get out, move and try to find another angle. If you get a chance to go for the man himself, take it. Take it and run. Do not look if you scored a hit. Fire and run.“

He just nodded once more. I looked at my group, the Wounded Pride and Higgins, and knew that they needed no reminder as to what had to be done. They all were eager to put a blade to their tormenter. The plan was simple. Even more so for us. Wait, wait a bit more and then run and fight, never stop until the man laid dead at our feet. No amount of planning would help us there.

It started to rain, drawing wild lines in washed-out blue on our skins as the warpaint ran over our faces.

We heard the commotion. We heard the shouts. But we were moving slowly, ever so slowly around the camp, taking a difficult route that would make randomly catching sight of us equally as difficult. In the distance, a couple of hundred steps away, something roared and other voices answered.

Our hearts were racing in unison with the excitement and thrill the other members of our pack felt. We felt it too, in addition to a general sense of their position. Adrenalin rushed through our bodies and we sped up, barely able to restrain ourselves. We were still as fresh as the moment we had started the hunt, more ready to strike than ever before. Every doubt, every thought of failure left our minds once the hunt had started for real.

We were running. We hurdled the rocks, sprang up to the boulders and scurried up the vines and trees. Our hearts beating faster and faster. A buzzing sound in our minds growing louder and louder. Pressure building up, yearning to be released.

A titanic bellow cut through the rain and the muffled noises. The White Beast had made his move and his energy, his emotions now coursed through our veins. Our mates were one thing, but the alpha, the apex, the leader...we were swept away, reduced to a single purpose. Join the hunt.

Finally, we got up to the level of the Snake Clan camp, almost at a full-on sprint now, approaching the fight in the distance. I stepped on the shadow of a tree.

And it moved.

It slithered away with incredible speed, hopping from shadow to shadow, one amongst many. We stopped for a heartbeat, looking at each other. Grim faces, determined faces, eager faces all around.

“Run!“ I said. And running we did.

We jumped over the last gap between us and the isle the fight was happening on. It was a flat disk of a rock, with a slight incline to the middle, surrounded by a couple of thin and long rocks floating around it, towering over it like giant pillars. Above us was nothing but clouds and rain, falling straight onto us, so it was one of the rare places on the lower levels of the Broken Lands with no other mountains and isles floating above it. We had discussed the significance of this, but only could come up with the position in relation to the rest. It was open and central, and thus a good point to send out scouts and search parties.

Yet I could not shake the feeling that this place was something special. It was just a curious layout, reminding me on a couple of old ritual sites we had in the former Empire, from cultures more primitive than ours that preceded the civilization I had been born into. Just in enormous proportions and with floating pillars.

We stormed towards the hill with all the speed we could muster. Something was off, we could feel it the second we reached the hill. The shadows were too deep, too substantial. Even the light, as cloudy and murky as it was because of the rain, seemed to deepen more. We were not alone either. A pair of warriors of the Snake Clan came over the hilltop, casually readying their weapons, shaking the water off their feathers, which covered their heads and wings. They wore identical weapons, long, two-handed glaives with a blade from a material I could not recognize, could be the horn of an animal or monster I was not familiar with.

We had been expected, of course we had. We all had seen the shadow spirit alerting them. But our diversion, the attack of the Wyldlings, seemed to have been a success, if two warriors were all that they could muster to defend their leader.

“Break through!” Manus yelled, already glowing and growing to his giant form. “Do not let the shadows bog you down. They will overwhelm you. Follow me!” He raised his axe and ran towards the warriors with his heavy steps, shaking the earth under his weight, while the others and I fell in after him.

The shadows slithered over the grass, closing in on us from the sides, trying to catch up with our run, but in front of us a wall of writhing black erupted out of the grass, black smoke trailing behind every movement.

Manus shield began to glow in a silver light, brighter and brighter, as he stormed straight into the wall of shadows. The darkness yielded for a second, making way for us, the separate tendrils jerking back from the light.

Then they amassed around us, climbing over one another, rising up, finally towering over the group like a wave of darkness crashing onto a sphere of glass. Manus protection held and he pushed his screen of light through the shadows with his mighty frame alone, screaming in exertion as he walked forward against the darkness made reality.

Then, a spark. A blade of fire cut through the wall, cleanly severing the top of it. The mass did not die, the darkness fell back into the sea, reforming itself, but the pressure on Manus eased and his steps quickened immediately.

Another burst of fire carved through the darkness, exploding at the end. And this time the fire stayed. Out of the explosion rose a figure, a body of fire in the imitation of a person, if rudimentary, slamming into the wall of shadows. Steam rose from the flames as the rain evaporated before it could touch the figure. At the side of us the grass exploded into action, grabbing and entangling the tendrils of shadow, pulling them back, wrestling with them in a fight they could not win. Kara’s spirits had joined the fight.