An eternal monument to fire. The people within share the disposition of the element, fiery, passionate, and without rest. They work hard to glorify the element that rose humanity above the cycle and work within that cycle. Part of the triad of the cycle along with Aquion whom they hate, and Sanctuary who they tolerate.

Sanctuary a part of the triad cities of the cycle. Sanctuary has been a neutral ground for as long as long as people can remember. Perhaps because it is the home of the deadly but gentle silent swords, an order of monk warrior swordsmen. For them steel is sacred and to draw your sword means blood must follow. It is with this mantra and their considerable marshal abilities that Sanctuary remains bloodless… but for how long, peace is not good for the peace keepers, their services no longer needed the city lustre begins to dim.

The people of Aquion believe that without water, there is no life the essential part of the cycle, and they show their devotion to it. A peaceful people but still waters run deep. The tenuous peace of the Artizil Treaty holds them in place as much as it does Furious. Bitter water flows from sweet mouths in this city when it comes to those people. Centuries of blood cannot be washed away with the stroke of a pen, but perhaps like the quite water they can wash their enemies away.

The crystal plague, a foot note for most, and a note for merchants not be paid in gemstones. However, it is alive and real, what caused it? The preachers say blasphemy, the unrulily say the enemy, and the ancient say they were always cursed. Whatever the case the strange crystals grow, the locals hope they don’t catch it, but when your poor and cursed you don’t get to choose where you live.

The Tower Rose and the town grew. Do you want your safety guaranteed, simply set up your town around the most feared and hated people in the land, and surely other people will avoid causing you trouble. You would think they would be more comfortable with magic, but they fear it more than most perhaps because they know that it is real and know what it can do. However, these happy herbalists dutifully do the work of the tower as it helps the town prosper. Happy to trade with tribal or traveler alike.

The dazzling lights of Isis which keep the Opious bathed in heatless and ever twilight light hide the depravity of this place. A place whom primary income comes from slavery, then alcohol, and finally drugs. It said the dregs of every society makes their way here. With the last of the pirate kings dead and the black howl slowly fading back into legend, the only law here is there isn’t one. To live here is to live without mercy and if you can do that, you will prosper.

The very first of the territories that Imperious ever expanded into, Balca was annexed not conquered. Finding themselves in a situation similar to that of the original Imperians, they felt a kinship to them. They agree to help feed the ever-growing army for protection, the rest is history. While, it does provide core personal, most of Balca’s duties remain the same, producing food and they are happy to do so. Considered anachronistic by much of Imperious they see them as good people who this empire was founded to protect.

In Argothian culture, if someone becomes consumed by hatred, revenge, or the desire to harm, they have a funeral for their friend, because that person they loved is dead now consumed by the dark heart. The people of Coda never had this ritual, if asked they will tell you it is foolish and wasteful. The second territory annexed by Imperious, Coda went into talks and made many stipulations with their annexation. Now they are often the teachers, spies, and alchemists with Imperious. They believe themselves to be the mind behind the empire, but other consider it…

Once a nowhere town in an empire that barely cared enough to collect taxes and certainly didn’t answer pleas for help. Oldia finds it self torn between two worlds, one where a people never used to care about them and one that cares too much. Imperious builds roads as well as walls. Now a once sleepy town is the edge of an empire, rather than the butt of a joke. Now they watch ever wary of the threat of war as they are now the frontline.

Not every ‘Conquered’ hates their position. The people of Carina are happier than anyone that this happened, harassed by pirate, bandits, and other raiders. The people of Carina were never fighters. The quite herbalists grew their flowers and sold their wares. Now they have an exclusive buyer, one that keeps them safe. So peaceful and happy are these people that the fourth house set their house arcane studies here. Which has cursed them with the name ‘the magic herb garden’. They don’t care so long as they are safe and able to live in peace.

Conquered during the night their defences let down from within, and their leaders assassinated before even the opening salvo began. The city of Fortilia never stopped resisting, when the main army moved on guards went missing turning up dead. The pirate legacy lives on to this day. Remembering themselves as dark kings, the Fortilians thought themselves above Imperious. There foreign Ur’Tigh general thought this amusing and made the city his home. Slowly he crushes spiteful and hateful spirit of a hateful people. Noted as saying ‘Among murderers out for blood the perfect place to make strong children’.

Given a chance to surrender, they stood defiant, til the next morning and whatever was done there lingers on in infamy. So dark are the deeds that talking about them is taboo. It is said that this one act forever broke the city. It was never opposed Imperious again. Its people can work or fight for days without rest, without complaint, but they have a tendency to end their lives early. But you can push someone down who is already in the mud.

A city twice burnt and twice divided. Once by the removal of the once loved and now gone White Rose nobility that once ruled the city, and again by the Trade Alliance. The estate of the White Rose is tended by the people of the bustling town, a grand monument to how the kind are treated in the great game the nobility play. The wall of the trade alliance separates the empire from them but more than that it is their coin, and their defiance to the empire. Seeing themselves as merchants not a part of the Empire. The city is an open wound, raw and tender, the citizens are not loyal to the Empire but to the Rose and their exiled heir, the Alliance are loyal to coin and all who swear fealty to it. A powder keg with a lacquered finish.

Each of the grand estates of Barzon competes to show their wealth and prestige among the other houses. They are towns unto themselves. Each of them attempting to show their power to one another, building atop the old to show off their brand new designs. From gothic churches to the church of humanity, to grand old trees rising over the city, to aqueducts bringing heated water to open baths. Each house tries to out-compete the other, in their grandiosity of power, thinking little of what is underfoot.

Underneath all of the Grand Estates of Barzon lies a shadow city. These are the houseless dregs, sometimes literally as well as figuratively. Mushroom farms, jumpers and ‘jumpers’ hand me downs, and the brackish water of the riverway are staples of this life. A cold and uncared about underclass populate this area, just waiting for any opportunity. From houseless masses, to varrin purge survivors, to fallen nobles. All of them clinging to what little the have and the hope that they can rise to the light of Barzon.

In the north a new threat immerged, Imperious, but it did not fight like a hawk, or a wolf, or bear, no it fought like a wildfire. While the empire fought among itself, its nobles waring among each other Imperious was unified. Instead of having to clean up a rabble they found an implacable foe, that had burnt through their empire. Now a hundred houses are stationed at red cliff, hotblooded young men wait, coldblooded old men wait, and bitter widows wait. Waiting for a spark to strike the Redcliffs…