Have you ever wanted to experience life in a fantasy realm torn apart by a fratricidal war, disease, and famine? Then you're the luckiest man alive!

The Kingdom of Finsterheim, once prosper and strong, now lies shattered and bled dry, buried beneath the ashes of its former glory. Three rivals for the regency of the boy-king and one royal pretender played a filthy game and earned the filthy prize of a ruined land that may never recover from the horrors unleashed upon it.

How you survive in this broken world is entirely up to you. Will you be just another hound for the noble houses? The promised savior bringing peace upon the tip of a blade? Or an ambitious new player on this twisted chessboard? The choice is yours. But let me introduce your future lords...

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Queen Mother Karine and her boy-king Herbert. Kingdomless Queen, they call her. It's not so far from the truth. Locked in the capital, paranoid and delusional, she is surrounded by dozens and dozens of Royal Guards and devoted Elven Mages. Rival factions accuse her of poisoning both her husband and her stepson to seize the king's throne. With each passing day, Karine finds fewer resources and allies to deny this allegations.

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Lorenzo Aventine, the head of Aventine's house. The Golden Bull of Finsterheim, once revered as an endless source of gold for the crown, now looks like a man trapped in a desperate race against time. What will run out first: the war, or his personal treasury? And what will happen to all those fancy mercs the moment he fails to pay the bill?

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Henry Mornell, the head of Mornell's house. They say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks. Time always crushes those who refuse to adapt. Unfortunately for Sir Henry, the golden age of knights faded faster than he realized. All that remains of his house are relics of an honorable past that will never survive in this cruel, practical new era.

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King Thomas, the pretender-king. Noblemen laugh until their guts twist at the rumors of King Thomas's 'miracuous return', but common folk worship their new saviour. At least until they meet his undisciplined horde of cutthroats, brigands and deserters, wielding terrifying iron handcannons. His banner may be crude and poorly cut, but at least it's sewn properly.