The War For The Pallid Throne

The world trembles as the Leviathans stir from their slumber, and the scholars of the sunken valley preach of the coming storm. Felix, a thief on the streets of Bruma, begins his journey to the Astralarium as, deep with the Great Devourer's belly, a war has started among the engineers.

Persephone, shepherd of the wicked eight. Xerxes the hollow spear. Icarus the rat king. These are the greatest names of the pantheon of war, and they rise again to do battle on the plains of Kath'le Kal. High above come the black bolts of Xerxes's artificial tempest, and below are the towering behemoths of Icarus's horde. Persephone, too, waits in the shadows, her pod born in the rivers of blood beneath the sands. Soon will come the wails and gnashing of teeth as they shape their broods and kill each other beneath the pale glow of their mother's tonsil. Sweet, savory, and sour, the Pallid Throne is ripe for the taking.

But only one can be crowned the victor.