In this world, there are legends.

There are horrible legends, tales of mighty dragons of ruin, the memories of which strike fear into the heart of every child past their bedtime. There are inspiring legends, stories of great men and women who overcame the odds to achieve impossible feats, defeating the aforementioned dragons of destruction, and saving the world. There are funny legends, like tales of how the Khezu was cursed with its unsightly appearance, or why the Bullfango is always so angry.

In this world, there are legends.

There are legends that fall into neither of the categories above, fables that are equal parts comedy, epic and tragedy. These are few and far between, but whenever these myths are spread – be it by children laughing about it as they tell each other stories, or by hunters whispering in between swigs of alcohol – they stick around in the listeners' minds like Nerscylla thread, passed down from generation to generation.

In this world, there are legends.

Are they real? Are they mere figments of a hyperactive imagination? No one knows, and I suspect no one cares. However, this tale I am about to present is no fictional saga. This is not a spiel made up to impress the audience. This is a tale of hunters, but not the tales you hear exchanged between hunters in the hot springs, nor half-drunken accounts shouted by exhausted men at the bar. Does this qualify as a legend? Well, you'll have to decide for yourself.

In this world, there are legends.

This one just happens to include gore, panties, swearing, laughter, vomit, more gore, fighting, screaming, booze, and more gore. You have been warned.

Sticking around? Good.

This is the legend of Team Sedition.