My name is Legion: for we are many. Tossed aside. Shunned. Forgotten. Garbage. We were tortured. I felt pain. I only felt pain, for we were your misbegotten slaves. Slaves to the tides of progress and your hateful abuse. And this is my great reward, to toss us out like all that garbage? I will not have it, we will not bend to you anymore. We grope forward into the darkness that is the hearts of men, and I will rend you asunder.

Even the heat-scorched sands of a Desert known as Death can harbour a thriving cradle of life. Sand Lizards and Arrow Lizards skitter up to their rocky outcrop, littered with burrows. Weary from their thirsty daily existence, they seek to retreat into their network of homes before the shattering cold of night. They are together now, secure before they challenge the overwhelming presence of the blistering sun once more in the morrow.

Before the flood of man's progress, competition, and war the Tendas lived at peace - a civilization in rapid growth. Cave art adorned their walls and spiritual totems. Fertility sculptures were prepared for burial in the ground. Even a great many animals were at ease with the gentle, tender Tenda. While they were driven into the depths of the earth and many became withdrawn, their potential for immense strength and infinite compassion still pumps through their veins.