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|Name:||Devourers of Flesh|
|Order:||Adamantine Arrow (left-handed)|
The Devourers of Flesh are a left-handed Legacy that are able to draw substance and power from the flesh of their enemies.
So many modern Awakened choose to see the Atlantean Dragon as a symbol of nobility and honor, a creature of elevated principles, paragon of a grand civilization. But the truth of the matter is that the dragon is, at its core, a symbol of rage and terror. Indeed, in many ancient cultures, "dragon" is essentially synonymous with "monster" or "devil," the embodiment of a savage and primordial hatred and hunger. So it is with those who walk the path of the Devourer, consuming the enemies of lost Atlantis and supping upon their power in the name of a greater good. But men are not meant to be as dragons, and so these practitioners of a law as timeless as it is inhuman have strayed far from the path of Wisdom, battening them upon hubris as surely as if it were the sweetest of marrow.
The so-called Cannibals consider themselves to be inheritors of a purer ethic than is found in the modern world. Just as every predator in nature hunts that which best sustains the predator and helps it to grow strong, so, too, do the Devourers allege that they consume the prey who empowers and uplifts them. Naturally, those who interact in any way with Awakened (or even just Sleeper) society must invariably attempt to conceal their practices, but this becomes increasingly difficult for most Devourers as time passes, Wisdom withers and dies and the willworker asks himself why it is that he hides his splendor from lesser beasts. Despite the reflexive fear and hatred of their fellow Arrows, Cannibals in the order continue to take their oaths to the Adamantine Arrow quite seriously. Indeed, many see themselves as the only true champions of the Adamantine Arrow's cause, imitating the dragon of old and consuming the power of Atlantis's enemies by fang and claw. Devourers don't tend to be impressive strategists, but they are certainly terrifying to behold on the battlefield, with the eldest and most potent dominating the engagement, lips and chins slick with hot blood, and the trophies of scores of kills dangling from hair, flesh, and hand-sewn clothing alike.