Mourngul

Mournghul are horrific, ethereal creatures which haunt the bleak and empty places of the Old World. They are a thing neither dead nor alive, possess an insatiable hunger and are malice personified. From the cold waste of Norsca to the lofty heights of the Grey Mountains, dreadful tales are told around huddled fires of those lost in the white killing cold of the mountain winter, driven mad by famine and pain, insane enough to devour their own companions and former friends for meat, and the warmth of their fast-flowing blood. but for those damned souls, there is no relent or salvation, and even the horrors in which these monsters indulge cannot save them. When death overtakes some of them, such is their desperation and malice that it lingers on after death, and the most destruction and insidious winds of magic are drawn to coil around their spirits to taint and saturate them into existence. Then their cadavers are warped and twisted into inhuman proportions, and they become something neither Ghost nor revenant, a terrifying mockery of life, a monstrous, razor-thin shadow of cold, dead flesh and frostbite-cracked bone, with a gaping maw of needle-teeth and a cavernous stomach that hangs open like a dreadful wound.

Mournghuls are condemned to an eternity of empty hunger and terrible isolation, doomed to haunt the high, chill barrens, preying on whatever and whomever they happen across, be they traveler, hunters or monsters. They've soon entered into the legends of Men, Orcs and Beastmen alike. It is only in the harshest of winters when the snows crash down the mountains and crushing cold death upon the lowlands that the Mournghuls can descend to feast upon the towns and villages, an all but unstoppable terror. No matter how many they rend and devour, they can never know relief from the madness of hunger within them, and only fire is any defence against their kind.

Such is the Mournghuls dark repute that both the noble knights of civilized lands and mighty Champions of Chaos alike seek them out to slay for the glory of their gods. Many Necromancers have also sought to enslave but it is only when the Winds of Magic surge can these feral creatures be put to heel.

Abilities

 * Haunters of the Dark - A Mournghul is a thing of shadows and icy fogs. Despite its size it can slip unseen through the darkness and even in broad daylight seems to waver like an evil mirage until its fastens its long sharp claws around its victims neck.
 * Killing Cold - An aura of deathly chill radiates from the Mournghul, making enemies slow and sluggish in its presence.
 * Carnophage - For every wound the Mournghul inflicts in combat, it can regenerate its own injuries.