In years long gone, there was once an empire known as the Nauk, who sailed from over the sea through the Great Maelstroms and made the whole of the continent of Vinstraga their dominion. Before the Nauk the continent was naught but chaos, and the order of conquest united the stricken, barbaric land. A thousand years after the landings of Sversk the Conqueror, the last strained ties holding the Nauk Imperial together fell apart, but all would remember the Nauk Imperial being the beginning of history- and the inheritors of its glory, proud to call themselves the first of Vinstragan men.

The southern country of Vynmark claims a part of this lost glory, successors of the Nauk as both princes of the land, and lords of the sea, the latter which has made them exceptionally wealthy in recent times as the goods of the newly opened east flow around the isolationist Twaryi and through the greedy and unquestioning merchants of Vynmark’s shores, overseen by the noble Landgrafs and their high courts. Confident atop their enormous wealth, and their subjects content to feed off the succulent scraps of luxury, Vynmark has found itself ill prepared for the rapid change of today’s world…

Our generation was meant to know nothing but peace.

Vynmark was safe, and prosperous. Not without its flaws, but it was set apart from the rest of Vinstraga. From the world, Velekam. For decades, we knew nothing such as war, as battle, not in the heart of Vynmark, where the sun’s glow and the sea mist scattered fairy-blooms all about hills and plains that never knew the smell of blood. We believed that our ancestors had won us this idyll, and that we were meant to do naught but enjoy it, whilst whomever wished to play at war would never see something like the whispered-of yet so far off brutality of the rest of the continent.

Soon enough, we found that we had not earned peace in our lives. Nobody had.

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