Where once great kingdoms stood there was left only ruin. Consumed by their greed and lust for power they had one and all been destroyed in the war. Gone were the nobility and the great houses. Gone were the castes. Whoever had survived of the great families were scattered to the winds and the ends of the earth. All men had been made equal- not a single name was greater than any other.

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And it was in the shadow of the wastes that an idea took root within my mind. What if it were MY family, MY name that were cherished and revered? If I could say I had even an ounce of noble blood flowing through my veins, I could lay claim to the castle and become its steward. And if no one came to challenge me it would eventually become mine. There were few who could challange me, and possibly even fewer that cared.

And so, my kingdom began with a single lie. Or rather, a truth of my own creation. From that moment forward, I was of noble blood. I forsook my family and the name given to me by my father. I forsook my inheritance. And most of all, I forsook my heritage- the life of a peasant.

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But a single castle does not a kingdom make. I had work ahead of me if I were to become a king. I needed land and servants. I needed an army of my own. Fortunately, my second lie would take care of that...