Arkon, jewel of the Angeli Empire, straddled the sun fired coastline in defiance of all her enemies. From the glitter of a thousand glass windows adorning her towers, spires of stone climbing high into the sky, to the mighty walls of ivory white stone, the city of emperors amazed and bedazzled by her sheer size and storehouse of monuments, those who gazed upon her. For more than a thousand years she had gathered gold and silver from foreign wars, born away ancient treasures by the blood of her armies. In peace and war she remained ever formidable, but in trade she conquered all lands. Her fleets were renowned in strength and speed, all that was good and desirable passed through her arms as she embraced the great harbor, always filled with merchant crafts bearing her their mighty tribute.
Of theaters and circus arenas she could boast many, the finest of the performance arts were hers, as were the most raging chariot and horse races for those that sought an afternoon's entertainment. The casual traveler could not begin to speak of Arkon's beauty if he failed to mention the twin cathedrals, the ancient mausoleum of the emperors, or public treasury in which were stored the greatest of the foreign articles of conquest. The golden sculptures, the public bath houses, museum and great library, all things that made this queen of cities the destination of so many important individuals, friend and foe alike, filled her inhabitants with pride. True there was the darker side to the city's history, and the perpetual problem of the urban poor and down cast souls that suffered so that others might prosper, but that was something most often forgotten by the proud and privileged.
In the bowls of the city, in the tunnels that ran out beneath her like a network of roots, Arkon hosted a well known but not often delved underworld that was a power unto itself. As long as the two sides of the city kept the imperial dignity intact, and lord of the western lands, both sides tolerated each other well enough. Thus corrupt and self righteous, Arkon remained a glorious beacon of hope to the penniless, desperate to make their fortune in her indifferent embrace. How many succeeded, and how many failed did not matter to her, for Arkon made no promises to those that flock to her. She is power, dominion, and the scepter of authority in imperial hands, but refuses any master.
Thus many men have sought her. To defend her the mighty imperial armies march the lands and sail the seas, and to keep her, the Salvorian Guard protects her ancient citadel. Battle tested, fearless, and sworn to the service of the emperor only, the Salvorians were hand selected and few in number. Thus the distinction for this service offered to anyone not meeting the highly stringent demands of the position were extremely rare.
"Yet here I am," thought Devron, standing at attention looking out over the Maredian Sea from the balcony of Haveron Palace. "I am assigned to protect the noble and heir apparent, Marcus Angeli, eldest son of the Emperor Julian III." The shock of his new position, the promotion from the ranks, was still too amazing to a young man of twenty who expected at least ten years in the field before even a minor consideration. Yet it was still only late morning, and part of him could not help but fear a mistake had been made and that at any time Lord Lucian Sevroth would come and dismiss his services. Standing in the warm sun though, dressed in the imperial insignia and draped with the crimson cloak, Devron could not help but recall the truly amazing events of the early morning, a morning in Arkon that he would never forget.
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