A bitter plague has crippled the once bustling lands of the Argosian District, bringing both peasants and royalty to their knees. Families live in horror as the bodies of their loved ones, neighbors, and acquaintances pile up amongst the streets. Weekly the Reapers walk the torch lit roads of the many villages and port towns that sit nestled amongst the Argosian landscape. These poor souls share the duty of transporting the endless amounts of corpses to the designated pits within the outskirts of the Argosian District, to burn in the cleansing fires.
For twelve years the plague has slaughtered kinships and family lineage of the Arogsian people. Scholars and alchemists alike work night and day to acquire a cure, yet no fruit has bore from their labor. The Kingdom now lies weakened, its once mighty army a fraction of its size in pure numbers, its boards shrinking has towns literally die off from unchecked outbreaks from the plague.
Across the great forest the City-State of Aten strengthens and expands its borders. With no outbreak in five years, the aggressive empire has reached an all time peak in sciences and technologies. Offering aid to its neighboring country in the form of a cure for the daunting plague, it seeks nothing more than a treaty to cease and desist any and all forms of the ancient alchemy arts. Unwilling to erase the cornerstone of their heritage, and knowing the loss of alchemy would rape their nation of its power to control and upkeep its boarders, the Argosian Empire and its royal heirs reluctantly decline the offer. Tension mounts daily between the City-State and the Argosian district, and while Argosia fails to make any significant breakthroughs in the form of a cure, an inevitable war seems to be sprouting its ugly face. Whether it comes from an all out mobile attack from the City-State of Aten in an effort to end the art of Alchemy for once and for all, or within its own boarders due to civil unrest, without change their will soon see a fair share of bloodshed upon their lands.
