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Here is my rough WIP sheet as well.

Empire of Matathran
Dominion of the Warlord Empress Andromache


Imperial Dictatorship

When the Matathran Empire was first united nearly forty-two years ago, it was compromised of three distinct polities with their own bodies of law and local customs. Due in part to the gruesome war with the rancorous Agate Spiders of the Matathran Vale and having already been through eight years of protracted war, the administration of the Warlord Empress Andromache set to work so as to make the campaign to fend off the Agate Spites feasible. The cobbled together armies of Matathran at the time were able to hold off and slowly push back the erratic and directionless violence of the Agate Spites, but the state of affairs was understood by everyone to be temporary at the time. The Spider Councils had untold thousands to command, and their onslaught was only limited by the spiders' inherently weak sense of sight and their difficulty of the Spider Councils in coercing and directing their from the depths of the earth and into the open fields. The newly created empire had to change in order to avoid the merciless, genocidal intentions of the Agate Spites. Perhaps this knowledge was what permitted Andromache's administration to get away with as much as they did, especially in the early years, as the people were by and large willing and desperate to try nearly anything if it meant survival.

The modern Empire is a caste-oriented military bureaucracy. Untold numbers of slaves toil in fields to grow the crop necessary to feed the Empire's massive armies. Craftsmen, merchants, and anybody with useful skills or education are assigned to their own distinct castes, each with their own rules, privileges, and duties. The entirety of the caste system and all its members is upheld and maintained wholly by the military. Execution Squads headed by Invigilators oversee the daily life of the populace at large, enforcing military law through wit of force and curtailing possible revolt. Those within the ranks of the military enjoy placement near to the top of the caste system, with officers and commanders usually being direct associates of the Imperial administrative body and almost universally and (but not entirely) zealously loyal. The Imperial administrative body theoretically oversees and regulates the Invigilators and officers of the military, but in practice there is no reliable mechanism for civil relief for infractions directed against the populace. Soldiers generally come, go, and do as they please, limited only by the discretion of their immediate superiors. Any dissent or complaint is met with violence and torture, if not worse. Only the most egregious instances of abuse and exploitation are responded to by the Imperial administrative body.

With the Imperial administrative body itself, all authority flows from the Empress Andromache. One can only be a member of the Imperial body through some form or another of direct association with her, which becomes necessary in order to even ascend beyond a certain rank within the military at large. While this typically results in somewhat sluggish and languid logistics due to the bureaucratic backlog of individuals seeking audience with the Empress or attendance to one of her festivals and the relatively small number of superior commanding officers, these individuals are typically cherry-picked from the very best amongst the whole of the military. It would thus not be unfair to say that the entire Empire is held together by a relatively small number of highly competent individuals, and the failure or departure of a number of them would undoubtedly cripple the Empire's infrastructure.

At the very top of the Imperial bureaucracy exist a number of Marshalls, the three members of the Royal Trident, and the Empress herself. All of them are incredibly tight-knit, all of them being on a first-name basis and subject to overbearing scrutiny by each other. Their assets and regular coteries also overlap significantly, ensuring that they all share in the same gains and losses.
Climate

The Northeast: The founding and eponymous region of the Matathran Empire, the Matathran Vale - known to some as the cradle of legends - is a long, tapering series of rolling plains, hills, and lush grassland. It is largely temperate as air currents bring moisture in from the West and South, which becomes trapped against the tapering Argent Mountains, resulting in regular and generous precipitation and a number of long, winding rivers. The terrain is nonetheless rocky in many places, preventing the rise of abundant overgrowth. Despite its lush and open nature, the vale proper is sparsely populated, due both to its other characteristics and its reputation. The whole of the vale is littered with barrows, burial mounds, and old forgotten places best left undisturbed. The tales and legends of the vale are numberless, and it is not uncommon for individuals and even groups to wander into the vale to never be seen again - giving rise to the local discretionary saying, 'Do you think you will make for legendary warrior or a legendary meal?' The East and Western mountain chains are notoriously treacherous, being one of the few places where Agate Spiders continue to weave their webs in peace, unforgotten yet unmolested in their airy nests. The lower sides of the mountains contain heavily saturated swampland and marshes with surrounding forests and glades, and most of the wildlife in the region is migratory and can be encountered traversing the mountain slopes on occasion - along with yet even more misbegotten gods-cursed ancient vaults, forbidden sepulchers, and primordial tombs. 

The West: The chain of mountains further to the West block most of the moisture that rolls in from the Western sea, creating an arid, barren region directly to their East. There exist more temperate regions around the fringes of the territory and further West of the mountain chains, but by and large life is difficult in the region. The area is abundant in useful and precious metals and minerals however, making it the source of most of the Empire's wealth and materials - that is to say, the only safe and reliable source given the precarious nature of the Northeastern Argent mountain chains. Although the terrain gives way to more tractable savanna and grasslands to the East, the presence of the Aeolian Shrine precludes frequent intrusion. 

The East: Directly beneath the Northeastern Vale, the drier but still temperate plains receive semi-frequent rainfall from storms that roll in from the East and Northeast. Thankfully free of the calamitous litter of the Matathran vale, these lands are heavily farmed and produce a large amount of the Empire's crop and cereals. For that very reason, combined its relatively open borders, the region is continuously host to rotating garrison forces - ostensibly present for rest and relaxation, but also serving as a deterrence and backline guard force for the area. The region of the empire is otherwise the most open and accommodating of outsiders and travelers alike, with especially well-maintained roads, little in the way of inimical wildlife, and frequent roadside inns.

The South: Below the Western Barrens and the Eastern Plains lies a small bottlegap of mountain peaks that create a somewhat fertile savanna to the West, which gives way to a rocky, slate-dominated area to the Southeast. A respectable degree of farming is done in the Southernmost regions of the savanna, while a number of mines to the Southwest turn out more slate and granite than anybody could possibly ever find a use for. The Southeasternmost region in particular is known primarily for how desolate it is. The slate steppes are fairly temperate and bodies of water are not infrequent, but the realm is simply so rocky and devoid of topsoil that there is barely any vegetation of note, with only small fauna and wildlife present. The terrain is likely jagged and uneven to an extreme, but otherwise largely uniform in character - making it the premier location for training exercises and field maneuvers by the Empire's armed forces. The continuous pounding of feet and grinding of wagon-wheels in the area has been known to kick up dust clouds large enough to swallow villages.
Notable Locations:

The capital of the Empire, the former city of Ranoral was significantly smaller and less developed forty years previously.
Its growth and infrastructure exploded due to the subterranean war with the eight Spider Councils and the Agate Spites, due both to its physical proximity to the mountain entrances to the underground as well as residing within the home region of all three members of the Royal Trident. Chalice is the embodiment of the Empire's modern values and efforts, hosting the largest fighting pits in the realm and being the seat of the Imperial Harem. The Imperial Palace doubles as the citadel and central military installation in the region, surrounded by slave markets and meticulously architecturally partitioned caste boroughs. Fervor for the Imperial Regime is particularly high in Chalice, resulting in a high degree of hostility towards outsiders and foreigners - so much so that is is dangerous for many to even set foot in the city without bodyguards.
If Chalice is the political center of the Empire, and if Cruoix is the cultural center, then Cra'dal is the Empire center of wealth and industry. Unlike either of the other metropolis, Cra'dal's design remains nearly unchanged after forty years of political upheaval in the Empire. Segregated into artisan and trade districts, Cra'dal is home to thousands of financial institutions, specialized workshops, and hundreds of private residential palaces. Due to the distribution of wealth amongst the castes in the metropolis, the rules and laws concerning caste status and relationship are largely relaxed, resulting in a more fluid social climate - with the exception of the slave markets, which are the largest in the Empire and the most thoroughly policed. The combination of wealth, raw materials, and manual labor concentrated in the metropolis are what make it the predominant source of weapons, armor, and equipment for the Empire's soldiery, and so despite the relaxed caste restrictions the military runs a tight regime of patrols and inspections.
Due to its location and the relatively open terrain and borders around it, the metropolis of Cruiox is the most welcoming of foreigners and outsiders - and perhaps, intentionally, also the cultural center of the Empire where its virtues are put on display, and its failings whitewashed. The metropolis' design takes advantage of the abundant supply of slate and granite mined from the nearby steppes in its presentation of countless pristine and aesthetically pleasing urban boroughs, each with its own town center and suspiciously frequent festivals. Storytellers and bards are particularly common in Cruoix, and many artists and craftsmen regularly produce banners, murals, habiliments, and other works in praise of the Empire, Andromache, and the Royal Trident - all placed conveniently on display for the public eye. The fighting pits in Cruoix are remarkably sterile and humane, being open to public visitation. The so-called Imperial Harem present in the metropolis is nothing of the sort, instead being a duplicitous entertainment venue meant to enthrall and district visitors. The slave trade is also relatively subdued, the flesh markets being smaller than in Chalice or Cra'dal and more neatly organized. The locals, although not especially friendly towards outsiders, are not overtly hostile.

Of course, being the cultural center of the Empire comes with the inevitability of counter-culture movements and whispers of dissent.
The same numerous, cozy stone taverns found on every other street corner that are so amenable to travelers are also home to furtive whispers of atrocities and unspeakable mortal cruelty. Whispers that are permitted by the Invigilators in order to suggest a permissive rule on their part. Regular military marches are held in the ornate plazas and streets, and in the nearby Slate Steppes the dust clouds of drilling army formations are a regular sight. Cruoix is not merely a presentation of Matathran culture, but also a show of its might.
The twin cities of Tah'drem serve as fortifications directly above the entrances to the realms of the Spider Councils and the Agate Spites, and incidentally also serve as a gateway blocking the one easily accessible Eastern gap through the Argent mountain chain. The cities are almost wholly military installations, essentially massive barracks with the sprawl between them housing the extended families of the soldiery. Large skirmishing forces regularly descend into the bowels of the earth to do battle with the Agate Spites therein, otherwise going on brief training forays in the vale and serving as rallying point from which to draw and direct troops as necessary. A massive pair of gates stand at the Eastern wall of the city that have been closed for three decades, and foreign visitors have not been seen in years. The soldiery of Tah'drem cycle out with their comrades at the fortresses of Anvor, as well as resupply and guard the Argent Observatory atop Mt. Amaranth.
The pass of Anvor is the only passage through the Northernmost mountains of Matathran large enough to move troops and wagons through reliably, and has been fortified accordingly to act as a bottleneck and as one of the Empire's foremost rallying posts. Soldiers are regularly circulated between the Anvor fortresses and the twin cities of Tah'drem,
or otherwise sent elsewhere in the empire as needed. The mountain strongholds have secure vaults and armories filled with equipment and supplies, as the resolute bastions are intended to serve as the final retreat for the empire if necessary. The wealth and supplies housed in the relatively small region could keep the men stationed within the forts fed and paid for years, if necessary. Rumors in the underworld suggest that the Anvor vaults also contain fabulous artifacts of untold power and other strategic assets to the Empire, although this is mere speculation.
Previously an observatory where the ancients studied the movements of celestial bodies, the Argent Observatory rests atop the peak of Mt. Amaranth in the Northeastern Argent Mountain range. The Prophetess was known to have resided in the observatory for a number of years in her life, and in past decades the Observatory was remade as a temple in worship of her and the gods. Since the rise of the Matathran Empire, the Temple has been seized by the Imperial Army, its keepers and congregation thrown out. Imperial convoys to and from the Observatory are frequent despite the hardships of the journey, and the Empire guards the temple as though it were a royal vault.
The site where the Primordial Lucrore slumbered for thousands of years in the middle of the Matathran vale, waiting to be awakened by mortals. They did not count on being slain by a fourteen-year old girl. Without Lucrore's influence to preserve it, the shrine proper has deteriorated considerably. Beyond the crumbling walls, all that remains is the shrine's central totem. Some come from far abroad to leave offerings in praise of Andromache. Others come for less seemly purposes. Lucrore is gone, but some see purpose and the potential for power in the old, crumbling ritual mechanism that was left behind.
In the Era of Legends, the Aeolian Harp was the tool of a powerful mortal mage who sought to assert dominance and control over the whole of the world. Their scheme failed, but evidence of their effort still exists in the form of the Aeolian Harp. Its very presence in the center of the Aeolian Plains has given the whole region an ominous reputation for centuries. Most fear venturing too close, afraid of being led astray by the harp's melodic perturbations. Local rumor says the Aeolian Harp can unravel strands of Fate - or bind mortals with unwanted Destiny. The last effort by the Empire to have the Harp destroyed resulted in the largest cyclone witnessed in centuries tearing through the plains, completely destroying the township of Satus and killing thousands.

The Harp's melodic tones can be heard from kilometers away, which is usually a sign that one should turn back if they do not wish to become unsettled by its terrible power.
An ancient site of redemption and atonement, Ruth's Hollow is a prison monastery found within the Anuiv mountain range proximal to the metropolis of Cruoix. Its occupants are all present of their own volition, as the monastery is where one may voluntarily confine themselves in order to purge the spirit of sin and wrongdoing in the eyes of the gods, at least if local legend is to be believed. It contains several dozen occupants of varying status; wild rumors circulate declaring some to be Primordials, lost siblings and children of the Prophetess, and alien beings from different planes. None of these rumors have any evidence to support them, and the Empire has a marked lack of interest in the locale beyond a token guard force present to deter visitors from overcrowding the monastery. "This is a temple, not a Grostesquerie, and these people are not attractions."

The residents of the Hollow are provided with food and offerings by penitent priests and individuals seeking forgiveness and guidance for lesser mortal offenses.
Culture

The people of Matathran are ethnically diverse, with multiple peoples and species having existed between the three Kingdoms that were conquered to form the Empire proper. The lines between these peoples have thinned over time, as the new Empire cares little for trivial distinctions of race, and as such it is not uncommon to find strange bedfellows drawn from different peoples and species within the same social caste, living within the same borough and expected to work side-by-side. There is an accepted tolerance of each other amongst them all, as in the forty years prior they had either been fighting for their lives against the Agate Spites or else toiling to ensure the survival of the Empire as a whole. Discrimination and racism is still present and is not proscribed against, but the Empire is nonetheless fairly progressive in its attitudes towards race and species. In particular parts of the Empire where fervor is high, this is an intense dislike and animosity towards foreigners and outsiders, an attitude which is tacitly encouraged by the Imperial Administration.

The modern Empire is a caste-oriented military bureaucracy. Untold numbers of slaves toil in fields to grow the crop necessary to feed the Empire's massive armies. Defiance of any sort is punished with permanent mutilation and disfigurement. Directly above them are pit-fighters, drawn from amongst those slaves too dangerous or rebellious to leave in the fields, or those who simply wish for a better life. They fight and die in slaughter-pits, the survivors indoctrinated and inducted into the military upon their graduation. Artisans, craftsmen, scholars, and anybody else with particular skills or education are likewise assigned to their own distinct castes, relegated to living in assigned boroughs. The quality of life for each specific caste is enforced by the Imperial Administration, which ensures through the assignment of slaves and the availability of supply that each specific member of each caste has what the state has deemed necessary for them to live and work productively, with laws concerning private business and trade primarily oriented towards ensuring appropriate cross-caste interactions than in trying to restrict the flow of wealth. It is thus possible for those in the lower castes to nonetheless be rather influence and prosperous, and caste mobility is also permitted through checks and proofs of qualification.

One aspect of society that has notably fallen by the wayside in the past forty years has been religion. Due to the historically inimical nature of the Matathran vale and its association with Primordials, the people at large have always been highly wary of magic and other fantastic phenomenon. It is commonly accepted that the gods exist and their worship is still effectively state-mandated, though not rigorously enforced. In contrast, there has been a growing trend of hero-worship amongst the populace, having been subjected to decades of propaganda and the aggrandization of mortal dominance over the world and the will to power.

Within the last Forty years, a new ethnicity of peoples have appeared within the Empire - Warbreeds, grown and nurtured in the Imperial Harems within each city and metropolis which draw from the best and strongest of soldiers and pit fighters in order to produce superior soldiers. Warbreeds are much taller than normal and possess monstrous strength, but are somewhat dimwitted and host to a large number of hereditary defects that result in drastically shortened lifespans and innate sterility. Their numbers are relatively small, given the rate at which the Imperial Harems have grown, the sterility of the Warbreeds themselves, and the rate at which they die off over time. They are only just now in the present day starting to become regular sights in the Imperial forces.
Military

Work in progress.
Heroes

"The vale of Matathran has always been something of a crucible. It is called the Cradle of Legends. The powerful are rarely born there, but it is within that peculiar vale that the names and power of many of our most famous figures was nurtured. Graceful An, Fatebreaker Poe, Forthright Mannet - familiar names, yes? All three found their callings in the Matathran vale, amongst others. Of course, as tends to be the case, not all legends are of the heroic bend. The Tyrant Empress of the Stars comes to mind, for one - as well as the Haggard Lord and the False Prophetess Erinyes."

"Perhaps it is faintly too soon to tell, but in my humble mindings - Andromache is another such legend. Now, I am just a simple storyteller, and if I spin wrong my bones will be ground into sand for some chattel pit somewhere, so let us just say that history will be what determines what she is, aye?"

"Of course, Andromache was something of a hold-name in these parts when she was but a small lass. Anybody could have been at Lucrore's Old Shrine on that day, but not just anyone could have slain a Primordial being. Then that same small girl went and ventured 'cross the whole of the vale like the heroes of old did. She tracked down and beat the Wretchkin Changeling at bones, then outwitted the Marauder Knight of Fugue and stole his lady's grace. Everyone tells the story about her at the Barrow of Iris differently. I've personally heard versions where she fought through the whole thing single-handed and another where she had a spot of broth and biscuits with the Envoy of Despair. Then of course she crossed paths with the Blackguard Prince and we all know how that story goes, and although I personally doubt there was any real romance there it is not hard to see why all the habermen like it. Does not hurt they still paint her as though she were still fourteen in everything. Not but a year later she matched her blade against the last of the Erinyes, then survives a fall into an Agate nest and finally meets her first real match in the Spider Council Garo."

"By this point Andromache had gained quite the following and had her own little band. Goes up against the Knight of Fugue once more and slays him outright. Then she gets cursed by the Bire Priests, and after being struck by lightning and ambushed by a pair of Agate hunters she runs afoul the King of the Vale's master of arms. She starts the barrens fire, gets hunted by the iron law and ninety-three bounty-men, and cuts devoured starlight from the belly of Pentadrast."

"Andromache's tale comes to its head when she discovers that the King of the Vale's master of arms conspired with Garo. She chased him across the vale to the city of Ranoral, with Garo at her back the whole time. The King of the Vale has by now been convinced she's just a particularly infamous bandit queen and sends his men and steel against her small band not numbering more than a gross - and Andromache wins. When the Spider Council finally looms over the horizon and sees her banner flying over the city, it turns right back around the way it came -"

"And that is how a new nation is born. Ranoral is renamed to Chalice, and the King of the Western Flats takes the news poorly. Then Queen Andromache no sooner takes the throne than she has a war on her hands, accusations of regicide, treason, and harlotry being flung at her feet. The treacherous King of the sea of slate pretends to come to her aid for his own purposes, of course, and the signs of that eight year long war can still be seen today. Andromache personally leads charges at the head of her armies. She defeats and turns the allegiance of the Western King's first Questor, and slays the second in a duel at the Aeolian Fields. No sooner has the King in the West fallen than the King in the South turns on Andromache. The eight-month long conflict goes poorly for him, when his own subjects rise up against him."

"Three Kingdoms are then united under Andromache's banner, just in time for the first Spite of Agates, united in awe of the hatred held for Andromache by the Spider Council Garo, to swarm from the Northeast mountain range and sweep across the Matathran vale like a flood of silk, venom, and blood."

"Andromache heads off personally to fight against them, of course, and to her most trusted cohorts does she leave the administration of her new empire. They are all loyal to a fault and do not even dream of betraying her trust - they know too many corpses who made that mistake. Perhaps they did not know her as well as they thought though, or perhaps they made themselves too necessary to dispose of when she eventually returned from her thirty year subterranean campaign in the veins of the world."

"Now, some people say that those long years spent fighting malignant Spider Councils in the dark changed her. Others say that she started good but went bad the more trotted around the vale like some kind of child demigod -"

"Sorry, did not mean to imply she was actually divine. It's just hard to describe her otherwise. What is it I should describe her as back then? A force of nature? The damned luckiest woman in all the world?"

"Anyway - some say she went bad while questing around the vale and unearthing every dark secret there was to be had. Then others say that she's a genuine figure like out of the Era of Legends, and that mortal morality falls beneath her in light of her feats and will. When she gets back and discovers the slaving trade, the fighting pits, and the grotesqueries - she acts like nothing's wrong. Sits down and starts playing with her empire like a dollhouse, and now it's no real secret that she's been eyeing our fair neighbors to the West and South just for the misfortune of having coastlines. Now maybe, she doesn't like what she sees and is just hard-pressed to change it. Or maybe, she likes things this way and we should be be taking her approval as a sign of the times. Or maybe - just maybe - none of this at all even matters to her anymore."

"No matter what happens though, one thing me and every other storyteller can tell you with certainty - when war begins again, she is going to be right there at the frontlines. Andromache's legend isn't over yet. Not by a long-shot. Wait and see."Old Storyteller
Work in progress.
Work in progress.
Work in progress.
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