Long ago, in the age of shadows and Spragga's most powerful time, a man lived with his son. They were happy together. The mother of the boy had died giving birth and the toll of her death made the boys father very weak. One day, the village where the man and his son lived received news of an advancing army going North to a distant kingdom, and they were plundering and killing anyone who got in their way for resources to survive the cold winter months. While the rest of the people laughed, the father got worried. If this was true then the only thing that mattered to him, not even his soul but his son, would be killed. In a rush the father packed and set out with his son, journeying through the deep woods that bordered their village. After hours of walking the boy called to his father, pointing at the sky at the thick cloud of smoke rising like Death itself to the clouds. They continued walking for days without knowing that deep in the shadows watched Spragga. His eyes red with blood of those slaughtered at the village and of those dying from the cold, his dark power surrounded the weak father, weak both in the body and the mind. The next night the father awoke. His eyes where as red as those of Spragga. He rose quietly while the boy breathed softly in his sleep. Snow was falling outside their tent, and as the father walked out he looked back. There his young child lay, and for a moment Spragga's spell almost broke. He took his dagger, a family heirloom, out of its sheath and placed it gently near his son... And then he fled. Years passed and the man grew happy again, Spragga wiped his memories of his son and wife. The man lived with a different woman, and had 3 kids, but after a while Spragga realized he had let the man off to easy. He once again took control of the man's mind. By sunrise, the man had killed his wife, his kids, and in the afternoon he decided to take his own life. Standing on a chair with a rope around his neck. He lifted his foot up and kicked at the chair. As his foot hit the chair and it tipped, Spragga flooded the man's head with his memories, his first wife, his friend's in the village, and finally his son. Lying there with the dagger next to his head and snow falling on the tent, while the boy slept. The chair fell and the man's spinal cord snapped, and he was dead. But...... The boy had lived. As he rose in the morning he found his father gone. And his prized dagger lying by the boy's head. He fled from the forest in search of his father, he searched for years until he found the truth. Spragga, The King of Darkness had possessed him and made him kill himself. They boy swore vengeance, and searched his life for Spragga, intent on either killing the demon or die trying. And so he did. Traversing the land in search of Spragga until the day he lay on his deathbed. As he lay there the snow piling on the roof and the wind howling like a banshee, the door squeaked open. The man never befriended anyone in fear that they too, were possessed. So he was surprised to see an old man walk up to his bed and say, "Brave warrior, you have traveled far. But alas your search has been fruitless, you are nearly dead and the time is short. I am an ancient god, and I too have long wished to destroy the entity named Spragga. But he is a tricky creature, although he is no match for a god, it must be a mortal who would slay him. If you accept, I will grant you immortality, but you will remain a mere human" The man gladly accepted, and to this very day he wanders the kingdoms looking, searching for Spragga. Every bit as intent upon killing the beast as ever before. A great war is coming, between Spragga and the Warrior, brace yourself.