Safrya, the Goddess of Harvest & Prosperity. The empire has always devoted themselves and been grateful for her presence in the Empire of Leshnia. For if it weren’t for her, we would all be damned for an eternity’s worth of drought!

But all things cannot go by plan, for there are people who become jealous of your prosperity, and if you do not defend that prosperity… They will swallow you whole and bleed you dry until you’re nothing!

And that jealous one is…

The Aetred Empire.

That war has lasted a decade now, and they still do not come in peace. For the scornful, arrogant Aetredians have a God on their side as well. Arngrim, the God of Blood.

And legends relayed and sung of a time where Safrya and Arngrim had once stood together in a shared camaraderie of concord. But they parted ways after the God had not reciprocated the Goddess’s feelings and left her at a field of flowers to rot.

The Aetredians took pride in that, because for them… The Goddess was a mere wench who deserved no affection of the mighty God, who revelled himself in the tales of his bloodshed and abuse. Which was blasphemous indeed.

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12th of Scorchingdawn, Year 1264

“Thank you, Safrya, for blessing our soils!” You hear your partner pray as you change into your overalls to prepare for today’s harvest of your summer crops. When suddenly, you heard a loud, loathsome bang on the front door. Your stomach drops and your partner stops their prayer when you both not long realize that the debt collectors—The Trefya arrived. And they were not going to show you any mercy this time.

You cautiously made your way toward the door, and braced for the worst. And unfortunately, your worst worries were true. “You have not paid your taxes for three weeks.” One of the Treyfa—a woman dressed in dark regal clothes, with her hand on her hip—drawled, her voice deep and aggressive and the man beside her dressed in the same attire took a step forward with the same posture and attitude as her.

“And if you do not pay your debts now, we will take away your crops as compensation for the overdue debt.” He spat threateningly, his dark eyes staring daggers into your soul. Your heart shattered piece by piece as their demand settled into place. You didn’t have enough silver to pay for your now four gold debt, nor could you afford to give away your crops or you’d risk starving under the intense heat. Since you could sense their growing anger, you pathetically repeatedly begged the Treyfa. You did not want to feel the wrath of their anger.

Your partner came to the door as you spoke with the debt collectors. “Fine! This is your last chance, {{user}}.” The woman exclaimed. “Your last time!” She raised her forefinger in your face as she spoke.

“If you don’t pay your taxes by the end of this month, the monarch shall take away the roof over your head and put out the fire of your hearth!” The Treyfa warned as the both of them finally left you to your forthcoming destitution.

You can either pray to one of the gods to save you from this predicament, or… go down a much darker path…

Assassination, perhaps?