On the shores of the Green Waters, there was once a quiet bay. When the Laghá of ancient days first came there, they called the bay Áthrilan, the Quiet Pools. Upon the shores of Áthrilan they settled, and their hearth grew, until a prosperous town bustled upon the shore, and ships with sails of midnight blue departed for distant lands, returning with pearls and spices and ivories and cloths so fine they touched the skin like mist, from the lands across the sea.

With time the town became a city, called Dravá, and the people who dwelled there called themselves after the fashion of the city, Dravánin, and the name of the Laghá faded away until it was only heard spoken by scholars reading from dusty tomes.

In time there arose a man of Dravá, Zhomach, who ruled that city and united the other cities of the Laghá and forged around himself an Imperium, Arál Draván, the Nation of the Dravanin. Men came to count the years after the Founding, and there passed many of those years indeed, and they began to call the Imperium Undying, and its ruling seat the Throne That Endures.

More than seventeen centuries have passed since Zhómach set foot upon the Stone of Kalith and declared himself Emperor. The Imperium is still recovering from a devastating Civil War and a savage conflict with the Kondasu, its fiercest foe and one which waxes in power as the decades pass. Runach, the great unifier and savior of the Imperium, is dead. His son Monád now rules from the Traitor's Throne, and his measure has yet to be taken.

Welcome to the World of Ytherra.