The earth, once green, lush and pure. Free of any burdens that could possibly fall upon such a beautiful place. The animals lived in peace with one another, birds sung with wolves in harmony and all things seemed right... until man laided its ugly hands upon the ground. With dull fingernails, mankind raked the earth clean and dry, leaving its decaying carcass behind in ruin...
Yet, this dirty, rotten place of a planet still held life... and what a life it was...
Not man but worse. They were man's followers, the army of death, pain and agony. The Sickness Soldiers. Not humans, not animals but something in between, the rest of the world called them anthros or morphs and pormptly cowered in fear of these mighty tyrants who use what's left of man to generally make the world even worse. Many have even spread their influence beyond anthros, to Ferals, the normal creatures that roam the planet's surface...
Now the soldiers reign supreme over all, over all the anthros that have broken free of their control, over all the peaceful dying feral creatures, over all that dare to stand in their shadows.. and they rule with blood and tears...