It was a time of war. A time of conquest and glory. A time of heroes and kings. A time of thunderous noise and sudden silence. It was a conflict so great, the gods themselves came down upon those charnel fields, to play at battle and lay glory upon the victors.
You were not one of the victors.
Instead you, and those desperate few who remain, are running for your lives. You took what you could what you could carry, or at least what you could find, and fled before the triumphant armies.
Now you follow the banner of Aurelius, Last Prince of Ferrum, on his mad dash into exile. The caravan has too few wagons, too few soldiers, and too few options but to flee into the unknown.
And it's up to you to keep it alive.
