Sorcerer… Cyborg???

The Isle. Most of its citizens live their lives within the boundaries of their villages, not even thinking twice about the world beyond. But while most of the people of the Isle continued on with their lives, unaware. A war was brewing. 

On the southern coast of the Isle, a long peninsula extends into the ocean, the part of the peninsula closest to the mainland of the Isle, is a patchwork of farmland and small villages, and as you travel closer to the tip of the peninsula. The dwellings grow closer and closer together, and the materials turns from wood and straw to brick and stone. The houses come closer and closer together, the paved roads transforming to city streets, and halfway along the peninsula, the city is divided.

An enormous wall of shining white stone bisects the city, the wall is thin, yet the entirety of its surface glows with magical runes, people from all over the Empire travel thousands of kilometers to gaze upon this wall, and unlike most of the sights of the Empire, this is one that the common man can approach and touch. 

Once one is close enough to touch the wall, the thousands of shining white bricks that make up the wall can be seen, the hairline separation between each one barely visible, so flawlessly were they pieced together. 

These walls had been crafted with the expert input of Dwarf and Gnome craftsmen, the Empire had paid the hefty price they typically required.

Soldiers man these walls, wearing shining plate, that also glow with runes, and their open face helmets reveal their bearded faces and dark skin, from the days upon days out in the sun, tirelessly manning the wall. 

While the wall is an imposing sight, and the soldiers manning it are constantly alert, not even stopping for a moment, their eyes constantly roaming the horizon for potential threats, the wall had not even been tested once.

The Empire had crushed any army foolish enough to question its supremacy well before they even had the chance to take a glimpse at the crown jewel of the Empire, the capital city of Aznur.

Beyond this first wall, is the second great sight that people from all over the lands of the Empire come to see, the great Arena. It is an equally imposing sight, an enormous ring of dark gray stone, with men and women constantly streaming in and out of the open doorways dotted around its base.

The Arena lacked the glow of runes, and the stones were roughly shaped and looked as if they had been piled rather than fitted together carefully, but this only added to the rough beauty of the structure.

Once within, the true majesty of the structure is revealed, a shallow cone shape had been created by the Ogres who lifted and placed the heavy, enormous stones that made up the Arena, creating row after row of seating, that lead to a wide open circle, without even a wall or fence separating the spectators from those fighting in the ring. 

An unknowing onlooker might take that step, not noticing the ring of white paint that separated the darker stones of the surface of the arena from the stands, curious about a battle taking place. 

That onlooker would step into their death, for anyone who stepped even a hair's breadth inside the ring was considered to be a contender, and the men fighting in the arena did not take kindly to contenders joining mid-battle.

The Arena was where slaves, citizens of the Empire and foreigners, were all alike, fighting for status and glory within. All for the slightest sliver of hope, the hope that on the day that they fought, the shaded pavilion erected high on one side of the Arena was occupied, and the Emperor recognized their prowess, and honored them.

Stories were told that as a young man, the Emperor himself had stood upon the blood stained stones of the ring, and had offered his head and the right to the throne as the prize, and had been set upon by all within the stands that day.

And the reason that this event was only spoken about in rumors and myth, was because that all those present that day, were slaughtered, to the very last man.

Now, beyond the first wall, and the Arena, and the fine mansions within the wall, constructed for the Generals and officials of the Emperor, at the very tip of the peninsula, is the structure which resulted in Aznur being called the crown jewel of the Empire.

The greatest craftsmen of the Isle had been called upon in creating this grand structure. The Imperial Palace. The mansions and storefront and guildhalls suddenly stopped, and there was a large expanse of open ground, after which a gentle slope rose up, at its top was a low wall of the same shining white stone that made up the outer wall of Aznur.

But this wall shone even more densely with runes, and the mere gaze of the soldiers manning the palace wall would make most men quail.

Beyond this first wall, hidden from the view of the city, were the Imperial Gardens, but few were even aware of their existence, and even fewer had actually seen them. What all admired, and gazed upon, were the shining spires of the palace. 

They rose up, like spiraling staircases to the heavens themselves, shining brightly over the city of Aznur. The tall spires were a topic of great interest to those that lived in the capital, one could never be sure how many there were, when one sat down to count them they instead became enamored with heir beauty and lost themselves gazing at the fine patterns of pale silver that wrapped all around the thin towers. 

At the base of these towers, was the Imperial Palace proper, and within it, the place where the gears of the great empire turned, the Imperial Court. 

"I implore you all, this must be some great conspiracy, how else could so many men and women of importance be killed, simultaneously even?" A certain blonde haired man currently addressed the court.