Myres are supernatural beings. Quick healing and non-aging after reaching maturity. They have coexisted with humans since the dawn of time. Living in the shadows, they follow a strict set of rules. In this world monsters and mythical creatures are real. Every now and then they come out to play.
Are you ready?
We are the wings of night,
a breathless cry.
Dancing on the wind,
while it carries us high.
We are whispers of air,
craving to soar.
They call us heavenly—
angels of lore.
would be more apt.
Righteous and strong,
our morals we've kept.
With hearts beating to
lightning and thunder,
we make the night our mistress
to tear evil asunder.
Make no mistake,
for we might have wings.
But be that as it may,
we fear neither emperors nor kings.
The Soul Reaver
We are remnants of things forgotten,
we are the tears that never flow.
To dark and death we chase the rotten,
evil things that never glow.
We hunt by night and hide by day,
feeding at our leisure.
On broken dreams our heads we lay,
the vilest hearts we treasure.
Our cups we toast to evil deeds,
greed, betrayal, anger and malice.
To drink the darkness, to quench our needs,
we raise our body's chalice.
Our needs are the bane of what we are,
but still we carry out our chore.
We search the world both near and far,
until the wicked fill our core
The good, the noble, even the brave,
shall never fear our wrath.
It isn't love or honor we so crave,
before us lies a diffrent path.
It is the evil which we want,
the dark souls that we cherish.
Alone we stand and face the brunt,
we cleanse the earth until we perish.
We are ancient,
we are law.
Bow your back
and lower your eyes.
Breathe our greatness
and stand in awe.
We are power,
we are compulsion,
we are your dreams,