Storms have always been one of the most ultimate tests for man. If one emerges from the catastrophic wake of it, they are reborn and given the blessing to continue living life. But if they are to perish, their body and soul are lost to the feral winds. It is your destiny to tame the winds and free these souls. For that is the duty of a Windcrusher.

This is one of the core philosophies of the ancient, legendary tribe of wrestlers. Many heroes have defeated Tempests, Zephyrs, and all other types of storms. These force of natures affect man in many ways. Some cause unwarranted destruction. Others lead man astray from their morals and values.

No one knows where the Windcrusher clan resides, but when the world is in need of one they mysteriously appear. Long ago, a powerful Windcrusher fought and defeated a myriad of storms. His merits and good deeds resulted in him being the greatest Windcrusher to live. He was promoted to Galesmasher. But with this great peace came a crippling comfort. A weakness to the very fighting spirit of man. As the storms fell by the mighty skill of the Galesmasher, a new type of storm began to form. The Surge Scourge. A towering behemoth of muscle and mass able to level a city with a mere suplex. A raging beast that could lariat countrysides in two. An almighty harbinger that brought decades of despair after his epic clash with the Galesmasher. The mighty protector has fallen and The Surge Scourge began his purge.

All hope was lost, many heroes lost their luster. It became dark era and a scrabble to end the tyrannical rule of the storm. Soon, a whisper on the winds spoke of a new Windcrusher. One that was stoic, cunning, and with drive and passion most have never seen before. It was like a storm fighting on the side of man, and so they named him The Guile Gale. Mere mention of the name brought forth the rekindling of tribes and traditions. Man began to rise again and survive the wakes of the storms once more.

However, the prosperity of mankind was not the intentions of this new Windcrusher. His eyes were sharp like a sudden gust. His voice a gentle breeze. But his skill was a raging typhoon. Many stood clear of his way not only out of respect, but of fear. Such was the stoic nature of this newcomer. As he traveled across the land defeating storms, he would use their dying breaths and ask: "Where is The Surge Scourge...?". The question was enough to make the earth quake and foundations tremble. But the Windcrusher was unwavering. Eventually, with enough storms defeated he would pique the interest of the tyrant. And so his journey continued. To not only put an end to the scourge's rein, but to avenge his father and clan.

Art by the luxurious  Merfiller