The sun rises. The moons set. The world spins.
You are a citizen of a vast multi-cultural nation known as the Imperium.
The Imperium extends from the pale, glittering shores of the eastern Everdeep Sea, across the bleak, forbidding deserts of the Shattered Wastes to the Ragefang Peaks of the west, those nigh impassable dark mountains that scrape the bowl of the sky like angry, granite teeth – an enormous expanse of territory unparalleled in the history of the world.
The only areas not claimed by the Empire of Silk and Serpents, consists of the vast frozen lands to the extreme north and a series of dark, volcanic islands far out in the deep southern seas – or so the histories claim.
The Imperium has stood unchallenged for close to a millennia, its flags and banners fluttering atop the splendid towers of every major city on the continent, it’s million-man army ever present and ready to stand against any threat.
Life as a citizen of the Imperium is good, for most.
War and famine are absent, and the roving bands of marauders and bandits of ages past are non-existent. What hardship does exist, can be overcome if one applies themselves.
The simple fieldhand who plows, plants and harvests can, after all the hard work, perhaps achieve his own lands. The lowly deckhand, who spends long years hauling on nets, can one day captain his own ship.
Only the cutthroat, thief and brigand have anything to fear from the Imperium, as they skulk in the shadows, trembling as they should, at the awesome might of the Empire of Silk and Serpents.
How has the Imperium lasted so long? What is the source of its strength and power?
The answer is, why the Delvers, of course.
In those long ago first days of the Empire, those daring few who called themselves Delvers wandered and explored. They warred with and fought all manner of beasts, faced countless horrors, stood their ground against terrifying odds. And in so doing, they expanded the Imperium’s foothold on the far fringes of civilization, paving the way for the peace and prosperity that all of us now enjoy.
And then with nary a warning, the glory days of adventure and discovery ended. Seven generations past, it became painfully clear that there were no more lands to conquer, no more sunken halls and tombs to plunder.
The Delvers grew despondent, having found they lacked place and purpose.
While the great cities grew and blossomed, while the peoples of the Imperium enjoyed long years of plenty, the once proud Guild Halls of the Delver Clans fell into disrepair. The boisterous feast celebrations were naught but silent ghostly memories. Rain trickled through holes in the roof tiles. Rats scurried unchecked in through the grain stores. The edges of their weapons grew dull, the chain links of their armors grew red with rust.
Obsolescence and obscurity, twin enemies that no sword or axe can dispatch, paced gloomily alongside those proud and defiant folk who had once dared to face the darkness. Indeed, it did appear as though the sun had set on a golden age that would never return.
Falling to rancor among themselves, a schism threatened to split the Delver clans and would have stripped them of all their fame and glory – if it were not for the wisdom and ingenuity of Archmage Trimethetis.
Among all the fearsome wizards and mages who have walked the dust of the earth, Siôn Trimethetis was surely the most terrible – and he set a challenge before those who called themselves Delver. Drawing upon all his knowledge and power, he had constructed and fabulous, frightening, and deadly labyrinth that would test the mettle of any who dared enter it. And at the center was the prize, a sparkling bejeweled crown floating suspended amid a ring of cold fire, waiting there for one brave and daring enough to claim it.
Thus were the Challenge Dungeons created, thus did the Delver Guilds reclaim the place and purpose, and thus do their deeds and daring sustain the Imperium.
The sun rises. The moons set. And the world spins ever on.
Omnis gloria imperio!