Life in the Azerai Empire is one of ceaseless hardship, particularly in the shadow of its great cities. The poor, the hungry, the homeless, and the forsaken occupy every corner, their suffering a discordant note against the Azerai Empire’s grandeur. Here, hunger claws at the soul, shelter is a fleeting luxury, and poverty is a lifelong curse. Orphans, lost children, are the Empire’s most invisible citizens, their names forgotten before they can even take root in this cruel world. They wander the streets like ghosts, taken in by the dark corners of society or devoured by its unseen terrors.

Yet, in the deepest reaches of despair, strange bargains are struck. Dark entities, from beyond the mortal veil, wait in silence for the desperate to approach. They offer promises of power, protection, or purpose to those with nothing left to lose, ripe pickings indeed in such places as these.

These otherworldly forces are as swarms of vermin, pervasive and opportunistic, lurking just beyond the periphery of sight. Ever ready to feast upon the refuse of this fecund Empire. Looking beyond the constraints of Azerian Dogma, I cannot say with complete certainty that these forces take more than they give… Their offers of meaning and twisted fellowship may provide something precious to those otherwise bereft, yet what price does one pay for such fleeting solace?