Well i don't really know wath to say other then it is an epic adveture through the trials and tribulations, that the demons of mytholgy can throw at civilisation
Many years ago on a high cold Mountain the wind whipped around the peak. Thick dark menacing clouds began to gather high above the faint crackle of a gathering storm could be heard in the village far below all the locals fled into their huts for protection.
The smoldering smell of thunder loomed in the air and filled the lungs of all the creatures around. The clouds began to rumble angrily and a chorus of rain ensued to accompany the bolts of lighting that were raining down on the land.
One crack and a lonely green tree on the mountainside burst into flames from a single fork of lighting this storm is were the origin of the Soul-Reaper Andras is said to begin and is the base for our tale. This storm was one like no other the rain seemed to fall against its will the clouds were almost groaning in pain. The locals covered their head far below cowering terrified barely breathing.
The cracks from the burning tree sounded almost like screams as it roots tore from the rugged mountainside leaving a gaping hole. It fell to the ground below and smashed into the now raging river. The water whipped around its shivering leaves they left helplessly down the river like little tiny rafts.
Bats began to soar echoing cries ringing out through the night they flew lower than normal as if they too were scared. A bellowing roar could be heard coming from the gaping hole deafening and terrifying. Two large claw covered paws gripped the side of the mountain and pulled hard the head of a black wolf emerged followed with what appeared to be a man on its back.
Bang! And the wolf shot forward free of its swirling prison it began to free fall down the side of the mountain.
The wolf’s rider let out a terrible soul piercing scream. It was a man in all respects except for its head. Its head was that of and owl a creature of wisdom. It had an almost golden beak and deep pulsing yellow eyes the iris seemed to continually move and swirl like the tides of the ocean. It drew it’s sword and spread its wings leaving the back of the black wolf. The wolf pounded onto the ground the about the size horse, it released a bark that sent cracks through the earth.
The locals looked on in fear the storm over head began to get worse the rain became hail the wind swirled violently. Thunder roared louder lighting cracked at the ground violently like a wild Rampaging beast. The demon raised its head high towards the heavens and released a terrible shrill cry of fury that echoed for a ten mile radius. Shaking birds from their nests and sending land creatures galloping. The lighting struck behind the demon while it screamed opening a massive crater. Another cry like the first and it seemed to emit fear and pain of the dead.
It is said that night Andras the demons name as it is now known killed all the villagers for sport. The swordsmen and hunters ran from their huts, to protect the women and children. Andras is said to have giggled at their charge before lashing out with his rapier. Men were slashed in half upon contact and those that dodged or parried were torn to shreds by the enormous black wolf. The demolished and dismayed village is fabled and is said to have vanished as no one alive besides Andras knows its whereabouts.
Demons are unfortunate souls who were sentenced to torture other souls in hell for eternity. Needless to say they become twisted and begin to enjoy it. But hell is only the dead so punishment isn’t as painful or bloody. Which is why the most twisted of them all found a way to escape the gates of hell to wreak havoc on the living.
Thus was the start of the Legion, they are humans’ decedents from the beings of magic that traditionally fill folklore. From Greek Demi-Gods to the old Native American shamans. You might wonder what have they in common but when you search beneath their skin you soon discover they were mot intended for this realm. But with Andras cross over all those years ago came the magic the gift to preserve life on this planet. The legion had spread across the world in hunt of Andras it is fabled that only he has the ability to ferry souls from hell. So if he was to killed the demons would stop crossing into this world but of course that is just belief and may not be true. The greatest of this challenge is the fact that Andras learned to mask his true shape and his wolfs it is said they now resemble an average man and a bloodhound. But yet the legion devotes their lives and bodies to the task of slaying as many demons as they possibly can before they take their last breath. A sad existence some might say but it is most defiantly an essential one.
"How art thou fallen from heaven
O day-star, son of the morning!
How art thou cast down to the ground,
That didst cast lots over the nations!
And thou saidst in thy heart:
'I will ascend into heaven,
Above the stars of God
Will I exalt my throne;
And I will sit upon the mount of meeting,
In the uttermost parts of the north;
I will ascend above the heights of the clouds;
I will be like the Most High
Yet thou shalt be brought dow to the nether-world,
To the uttermost parts of the pit."