“Shortly after the Deathlords of Sargos were finally forced to kneel before the Emperor’s black throne, and shortly after the Emperor had parlayed an eternal pact with the Great Mother of the Akhuni, the Kingdom of Nemasca engaged in open rebellion.” x The Talespinner tosses a handful of powder into the dwindling flames, which roar to life, and for a moment you can see a castle in the green flames. “Nemasca, a small kingdom nearly forgotten by the rest of the world. Our people would often make the trek down Falcon Pass when the snows thawed, which often would narrow to barely being wide enough for two wagons to pass one another. The valley was filled with thick forests of oak and pine, and a handful of villages and towns were scattered through the valley. I remember most of the people lived a simple life, and the minor nobles were always hungry for news from afar and clothing which was the latest fashion from anywhere else.” His bony fingers reach for his old wooden cup, and he takes
These are the stories of the Empire, which holds the known world within its grasp. The aged Zhani Talespinner, Miroskov Sayne, weaves his tales and recalls stories passed down through his clan. Stories taken from the tall Moblekhi, who hold their word as bond, and who die upon their own swords rather than dishonor their people. Tales from the far flung islands visited by the Dhalemeir who spend most of their lives at sea and who can repair a sail before they can walk. Tales of the horrors that dwell in the snow and ice, whispered by the Varyka in their long mead halls. Stories traded from the Akhuni warrior women of the vast plains in exchange for horses and iron. And bits of stories and history from the dozens of other peoples who have been conquered or who have submitted to the might of the Empire’s legions. I hope to flesh out the setting, with tales, and development of maps. In time it is my goal to polish the setting and release a tabletop roleplaying ga