We are Empire. In time, All shall fall beneath the rule of Imperator Andovel. Those who do not join us- shall fall beneath us!

Spiral City. The Capitol of Empire. From the Imperial Palace, nestled within the very Core of The Golden Quarter atop Upper Spiral City, His Highness the Imperator Comte Andovel observes his subjects. He gathers His military might, and unleashes the clad fist of His armies against all opposed: for All of The World shall in time be brought beneath one banner. The banner of Empire, bearing the three golden roses of Andovel Himself.

Those seeking power or recognition duel and fight, and pull themselves up through the ranks of the Imperial Forces Militant, through a gauntlet of blood. The Nobles of Empire squabble no less fiercely, though theirs is a game of politics: they rule the markets and govern the Imperator's lands in His name, and vie for supremacy within the Senate Noblisse.

And the Dark Lord ever watches, from his own shadowy abode within the ancient ruins on Spiral City's outskirts. The night itself is his eyes and ears. Nothing at all escapes his cold gaze, nor the intricicies of his meticulous schemes: and it is for this reason he is the Imperator's right hand.