A nation divided against itself cannot stand., so a nation united against itself will stand for an eternity
- Presider Bram Lyncon, Knighted States of Murikah, the land of Efreet desh Janna, Home of Debris
It was far in the past, nearly three thousand years ago by the Eight Iteration accounts, when the Prodigal Sun was lost, the heliosphere of Nimbus overtaking its light. In those days, the skies by day were Caerulian blue and the stars, tiny dust moted of Illimnis floated, drifting, in the inky blackness of the night. The moon, here but for one orbit, then cast back into the clouded and murky heavens by a wish of the Enjoined, has done its duty, for the Rising of the Moon is heralded the beginning of the end. Beyond the tempests of Cascade. Maelstrom,Typhun, Manshoon, Skraype, and Psyklon, outside the reach of the Seven Sea Princes and even the reach of the White City of Concords,and under the Black Water itself, the Knights have assembled the greatest fleet ever constructed, its sails striped with crimson, the chief corner spangled with stars of white on a field of indigo. The Red States of Murikah have come for the work and for the Engines. It is time to go home at last.
The Knighted States of Murikah are led by the Presider, whose Executioner Powers give him the role of Commander in Chief. His is not an easy position, for the Knights hold all legal positions, as they represent the Judicar's place in governance. The population of each of the Thirteen Colonies, now recognized as the Capitals of their States, are guided by independent Senates, elected officials who at once seek power for themselves and representation for their State.
The Colonies hold elections every two years, in theory, to reduce the corruption that longer terms might represent. Instead, it foments internal problems, by turning all of them into lifetime politicians, and they move from State to State, and position to position. Though every election means new senators from their regions; nothing is said about the truth that the senators are only new to their region, not to their offices. The Colonial capitals, now expanded to the founding Colonies of Tejas, Nork, Flahdah, Lasker, Tanner, Vadder, Laredo, Surry, and Issippi in the south, and the orbital states of Hwai, Mont, and Jinnee in the west, have established continuing and profitable embassies with the Myr and the Picthyr, two aquatic races unseen by the surface since the last Conjunction. Further, the Submersibles proved well worth their construction, for now, the drills keep the Vex flowing from the mines to the processors. Soon, they will be able to fire the engines, end the storms, and lift Nycos once again out of the shadows and into the light of the Aethyrstar, the invisible yet critical third stellar object in the system.
The first signs of the Murikah each Iteration are to be heralded by the Last Dragon, historically known as Siwen, as they represent the Final Enemy. But in the eighth iteration, instead, a young and erudite Pearl Dragon named Snowlyn, first of her line, made the call. From a seemingly engineered amphitheater in the shadows of Kraag, aptly named Siwen's Calling, She roared the challenge, her claws blooded on a Red-Sailed Vessel. She called nearly a year ago, and at first, it seemed that Snowlyn's Calling had been premature, for the unmistakable Sails of the Murikahn navy only seemed to skirt out from the Maelstrom, never in force, and never directly attacking, even when it appeared a nautical mismatch in their favor. Many believed the few vessels, with their sails of stripes, six white as snow and seven red as blood and water, were only echoes of the times of the Storms, tossed from the Maelstrom. But the truth is much more terrifying.
Thirteen colonies, cast into the Miasma by the Fates, departed the homelands in the months after the World was Broken by the Giants and Titans of the Ordnung. They boarded their Submersibles and slipped into the Black Waters as one. Efrreet desh Janna, having attempted the Sevenfolding, had foreseen the Falling of the world. Rather than face annihilation, the colonial vessels launched outward from the Cape of Last Hope, abandoning forever the surface for the UnderSea. A new realm was opened, and a new home was discovered. No longer would Humanity fight the petty battles with the Old Order. There was another way. It seemed this Iteration, they might be free. This iteration would not draw them from safety.
But the Risen Moon of Marragon now departed, had been, for the Knighted States, a great boon. For the world of Nycos has fallen into chaos. The Passing of Marragon, as the moon is called in the ancient texts, has catastrophically set the Sekjhen nations ablaze with marauding Grohl and the impending threats of civil war. The Yarlym, stockpiled and pressured in the ruins of Tyrchun have Swarmed, and have poured forth from the edge of the Wylderlands. A White King has arisen in Eldrassar,
The Red sails are hoisted, and the Submersibles begin their sacred, secret mission. The horizon is dotted with the Murikahn invasion fleet. All is in chaos, and all is as prophesied. The time of Men has returned, and it is nearly time for the Last Call of the Dragon. the Prodigal Sun is returning and the End is near.
