Since the Fall of Aranur and the founding of Aquila this once-great Empire’s power and influence on the world stage had waned. After the bitterly-fought civil war Aquila found itself beset by newcomers to Palurin. The Skaven infestation at the start of the first century brought the already-weakened city to the brink of collapse. With the death of the great Dominus Tyrannus, his delusional son Claudius the Vain embarked on a campaign in the north to expel the foreign invaders and win back lands that rightfully belonged to Aquila. He never returned from campaign and his armies were lost.
Claudius was presumed slain and, having died without an heir, dictatorship of Aquila and its few remaining provinces passed to his cousin Glavius Tyrannus. Where Claudius had burned with the ambition to gain glory and conquests to rival those of his forebears, Glavius had no such pretentions. He was content to allow the senate to manage the minutiae of day-to-day rule of the city and people. Rather, he would enjoy a luxurious existence of feasting and parties, theatre and games. Moreover, many of the vampires now ruling the senate valued this respite from war and unrest. Decadence and excess became the fashion and the ideals of the martial pursuits became, for many, nothing more than an inconvenient memory. Where once they had competed for power and political influence, now the noble houses contended to throw the most lavish gatherings, hold the greatest games, or build the most impressive and palatial residences. Aquila evolved into a hedonistic paradise for its ruling elite.
So it was that for two centuries Glavius and his kind ruled over a profligate nation, its excesses becoming more depraved year on year. The majority of Aquila’s subjects knew no such pleasures; the thousands of human slaves toiled the fields and mines to support the state. For their trouble the slave population would often have lots drawn, a few in every hundred being carried off to “entertain” their vampire overlords at the latest feast or debauched party. Some were thrown into the arena to battle one another, or worse, some fearsome monster or blood-thirsty master, a twisted voyeurism for the entertainment of the aristocrats. A few humans held privileged positions as Free Men; many were slave keepers, though a few were artisans, performers, architects and bureaucrats. Each hoped that their loyal service would one day win them the gift of eternal life, that they might ascend and take their place amongst the ruling vampiric nobility.
Aquila has become introspective, caring naught for the outside world. The undead legions silently patrol the borders and the roads, but never venture beyond the reach of the River Tiban. However not all in Aquila are content with this decadent existence. Quiet politicking returns to the shadowy corners, whispered meetings and letters exchanged in secret. There are some who still yearn for triumphs past such as those Aquilus the Great achieved all those centuries before.
House Tyrannus is itself divided. Glavius’ younger brother Scorpius remains an ardent advocate of militarism in Aquila. There are frequent reports of the intrusions of the stout ones that call themselves “Dawi”. Their own empire has expanded to the very source of the River Tiban and overlooks the plains of Aranur. Scorpius urges Glavius that they can no longer be content to simply throw such intruders into the arena- more and more come with each passing month. They pose a real threat to the sovereignty of Aquila should they continue to expand their domains. The time has come for action. The eagles must be raised, the legions must march once more.
But Scorpius and his supporters remain a struggling minority. After all, who would want to sacrifice the life of hedonism to return to war?
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