Ancient and forgotten, hallowed and damned; the Silent City sat hidden from the gazes of Mortals and Immortals alike. It sat deep at the heart of Dunov, the continent predominantly ruled by humanity; third of the largest land masses present upon Nesmartes. Its surface was marked by vast plains, hills and forests, only barely broken by the occasional mountain ranges or marshes.

Upon this place humanity built their civilizations up with dedication or greed; twisted and hollowly motivated by hypocrisy or bias against others not of their own. Such civilizations rose and fell through the passage of time; yet always rising again in some other form.

Monarchy, Aristocracy, Plutocracy and rarely Republicanism. These being the backbone of such civilizations. None endured for too long, as the natural nature of humanity sought to turn all into an Imperialistic form of government one way or another. The strong or wealthy ruled, the weak were made to follow.

Yet some hold a modicum of honor and kindness yet they are too few in number to be considered. For the civilizations of humanity upon Dunov numbered no less than ten, each warring with one another for the claim of dominance over the continent itself. One of these, was a monarchy that had its capital sit above the Silent City.

It was among the five factions that could be said to have much sway in the continent. Yet unlike the others it was among the few that tried to be honorable. But what honor they gained was diminished in the decades that had followed its inception.

This was the Kingdom of Anuris, or known by its neighbors as the Iron Monarchy. Its strength and endurance lay upon the steel of its warriors, which they painstakingly trained rigorously to defend their dwindling territories. But against two wars between two factions, it was not enough. As unlike the rest, their supply of mages was low, and their knowledge on training more was left wanting.

This inability to field more mages slowly spilled doom for them, as their enemies had ancient covenants with Dark Gods and Goddesses that cared for them. This only amplified the strength of the enemies of Anuris, for their mages could summon fell beasts and heal the most deadly of wounds given enough preparation.

What allowed Anuris to hold on, was their use of penal warriors. Slaves and criminals made to fight for their freedom or die trying. It was the most vile thing they have done according to their current King, who mourned the loss of honor and dignity in their part. This very act had made their Gods turned their back upon them, who sat content at letting their worshippers crumble against their enemies.

“Stop.” Came the voice of Azariah, breaking the low droning sound of monotonous voices filling his room. His glowing red eyes looked upon the still form of a mortal prince, whose thin lips closed shut the moment the monarch commanded it. There was a tinge of annoyance and exasperation in the voice that came from him, his burning form showing his discontent at what he was hearing.

“Have I offended you Primal?” Whimpered the prince who knelt before the monarch. His form was no different than how he appeared mere hours ago, though his eyes were now little more than orbs of inky blackness. This ‘prince’ was now a puppet of the Waking Horror, an ancient and utterly incomprehensible cosmic being that exists outside of reality.

Despite that knowledge, Azariah looked upon its current anchor with disdain. He had allowed the eldritch thing to subsume the personality of the prince, so that what he knew would be easily relayed to the monarch. This was for the purpose of knowing what was above his city, and yet nothing substantial came from it.

“Saar’Naht, your feeble anchor of a host is worthless as a source of information.” Discontent was palpable with each word that escaped his mouth, further causing Saar’Naht to whimper in fear and shame. ‘It is not its fault, the wretched anchor of it is worthless in terms of information.’ Azariah told himself, craning his head to the side as a sigh escaped his lips.

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The purpose of an Anchor was to allow an eldritch thing to remain in a world without alerting other creatures. While also letting it see the world through a mortal’s eyes, letting concepts such as hate or madness be understandable to their strange minds. Not only that, it was to allow Azariah to have someone pull the strings on the city above. A puppet to allow him to influence the occurrences in the mortal realm.

It was easy to simply destroy the mortals, to raze the world above in the fires of perdition. But that was not ‘fun’ in his eyes, it was too easy. As he knew he could destroy anything in the world, and only have the World Tree to contend with if he sought to extinguish all life. It was simple, for he was the First of the Dead, and what Saar’Naht called a Primal. A being filled with primordial power of sorts, that even a cosmic creature that arguably is more powerful than him, would respect and fear him for that.

But that did not concern the monarch, as his thoughts wandered to what he had been told. ‘Dunov, third largest landmass of Nesmartes. Peculiar, much has changed it seems. The Angelis have not been mentioned at all, and what information was given relates to Anuris and these two enemies of it.

So many uncertain things, so much more to know. So little sources of information… My Four will be of much use should they awaken soon. Yet my city lies deep beneath the earth, an unnatural event surely. But no mention of such a thing was spoken by Saar’Naht, this may have had occurred so long ago… But how long exactly?’

“Saar’Naht, I will give you more hours to properly assimilate the personality of your Anchor. Once that is done, you will return to the world above. What influence you have as the first prince, shall be used to hide the entrance that leads to my domain.

Aside from that, do well not to act outside of the Prince’s personality. For I will perhaps, accompany you above to see things as they are. If there’s something I find amusing in all civilizations, it is politics. Or rather how the people involved are always so… Conniving or traitorous just for their own benefit.

That reminds me, what’s the name of that Anchor of yours?”

“Primal, his name is Alexandris Vanudime.” Saar’Naht replied hastily, almost stuttering its words as it bowed its head in reverence. Hearing the name of the anchor, the monarch laughed in amusement. Before his burning form turned silent for a minute.

“A strange name that is certain. However that matters not, as you will do as I have said. Once you have achieved that, you will act as if it was normal. Additionally, you will… Gather information, about Dunov, the civilizations upon it.

Most of all, you must find out the political players of the city above. If you can manage, find the equivalent of an Assassin Order. Once that is done… Report back to me.

As I will have by then, awakened much of my Undead Court and we can begin a proper… Plan. If you do this well, I will reward you. Allowing you to fulfill your base nature. Which is to spread chaos and madness upon many things, no?”

As he spoke Azariah’s tone became malevolent, his very words causing the eldritch thing to shudder in terror. If he had flesh, the monarch would have smiled maliciously, as his primal power surged forth from his form and into his city. Wreathing the entire city in a momentary emerald glow. With him falling back into his silence as his thoughts brewed with desire.

‘Ah. Planning… Plotting… I have missed this, such finesse was not needed during the Eternity War. Such things were unheard of! As I lead my undead legions unto the war! First into the fray, last to come out of it! Oh but now… Now I get to enjoy myself!

Hmm… No, no… I must not let this get to me. Not yet.’