Beyond the sight of any living eye, encircled by vast and fathomless waters, lies the realm of Urtagh. It is the only world known to the children of men, a land where history is written not in ink, but in blood and iron.

In the elder days, the earth was divided between two great kindreds. The Gamyu-na, lovers of peace and prosperity, dwelt in splendor behind the towering, impenetrable walls of their cities. In stark contrast stood the Kekru-Gha, a fierce and relentless folk of the wild, whose hearts were given to the sword and the yoke. For an age, the Kekru-Gha made war upon the lesser tribes, bringing them to ruin and chains, until their covetous eyes fell upon the walled havens of the Gamyu-na.

Then arose Barak-thura, a warlord of terrible might, who claimed his father’s throne by right of combat. By slaying his own sire in an honorable duel, he claimed the exalted title of To-kru Pekra (Great Warrior). Gathering a host unnumbered, he marched upon Amja-la, the great capital. Yet, the city was not taken by fire or siege. Mji-la, the fair and wise princess of the Gamyu-na, saw that even the greatest walls must eventually fall. Knowing the brutal laws of the barbarians, she listened to the whispers of the gods, who revealed the only salvation for the city and its citizens. Stripping herself of all pride, raiment, and jewels, she walked forth naked to meet the warlord. Before his gathered host, she knelt and offered him a collar of submission, surrendering herself and her people to bondage that they might be spared.

Moved by her honor, Barak-thura accepted the gift, sparing the city and taking Mji-la as his bound wife. On his command, the great walls were cast down to the bare earth. The walls were the only thing he destroyed in the capital, for in the belief of his people, one cannot separate oneself from the world with barriers, as it deeply offends the gods. It is said that in the heavens, the goddess Yamji-na beheld this sacrifice and yielded herself to the war-god Kakru-te.

Strange customs for the inhabitants took hold from then on in the capital of Amja-la. The city and the world were ruled by warriors. They could have everything and give nothing in return. Other men were bound to show them utmost respect and obedience. Women bore the mark of submission, divided by the strictures of society: from collared slaves and bound wives of higher standing, to the destitute free servants who struggled for mere survival. At the lowest depths of despair, in the dark pens, the broken toil as beasts of burden to pull the chariots of the city.

Even the tongues of men were sundered. The unified speech of Miko was forged, an unbreakable law of words. The masters command with the harsh, imperative tongue of the Kekru-Gha, while the bound women speak only in soft, pleading syllables, forever stripped of the power to command.

Yet, not all bow to the order of the capital. Beyond the reach of Amja-la roam the renegades – shaven-headed outcasts and savage warriors who carve their own brutal path in the wilderness, recognizing no law but the edge of a blade.