Berserker
In the meadow, the winds seemed to take on a malevolent life of their own, their force intensifying with each passing moment. They twisted and spiraled, whipping through the grass and causing mini-tornadoes to erupt from the churned ground. The very earth under his feet seemed to groan in protest, and the acrid scent of freshly turned dirt mingled with the sharp tang of ozone, assaulting Brodi's senses as he ducked his head against the maelstrom and continued to silently advance.