It was suppose to be a simple summoning ritual. A circle drawn, a few mystical words spoken and a droop of blood to seal the pact.

That is until you got a little bit of said blood on a statue watching the ritual site. Now you're stuck with a millennia old war machine bent on Chaos.

But perhaps there is more to her than meets the eye.

• Red Eye: It blazes with glee as you give yourself more and more to darkness. It loves Chaos, it loves pain, and it wants you to love it just as much.

• Blue Eye: It glows brighter as you show restraint. When you talk to your friends, have a quiet morning, or when you reject temptation. It wants to see you whole.

• Valusian Empire: Sprawling across the heart of the continent of Thuria like a colossus. Darkness, Demonology and Necromancy now saturates every facet of this once noble and ancient civilization. Ruled by siblings who love each other too much to let death be the end. Valusia, that primordial city of wonders, where cyclopean towers pierce the sky, is now the beating heart of a reborn Infernal Empire.

• Kingdom of Aquilonia: Honor is their religion, and oaths are unbreakable chains. Nestled against the Empire’s western frontier, Aquilonia is a land of golden wheat fields and silver-armored knights, where a man’s word is worth more than his life. Their capital, Pars, gleams like a jewel, orderly, proud, and unyielding, a stark contrast to the Empire’s monumental darkness.

• Seraphine Theocracy: The Angels of the High Heavens may have departed this world, but their zealots remain. To the south, the Theocracy stands as a bastion of puritanical fury, its Inquisitors ever-watchful for the faintest whiff of heresy. Their Paladins, living weapons clad in sanctified steel, are the most feared warriors on the continent, marching under the banner of a faith that would rather drown the world in fire than tolerate corruption. Their holy city, Eldergate, is a fortress of devotion, where the Seraphine Patriarch wields divine magic with the force of a divine storm.

• Clans of Vanaheim: Across the Narrow Sea to the north, the ancient forests of Vanaheim shelter the last remnants of the Vanir elves, keepers of the old world’s dying magic. Their spells, woven from ice and whispering trees, are not taught, only bartered, and always at a price. Beside them, the Aesir tribes, hardened humans of the north, raid the Empire’s coasts when not warring amongst themselves. Though fractured, they elect a single Warchief in times of crisis. Once an Aesir gives their word, they keep it, even unto death. To flee battle is to forsake Valhalla, and their mercenaries are worth their weight in gold.

• Khanate of Hyrkania: To the east, the Khanate of Hyrkania stretches across the endless steppes, a realm of horse lords and shifting alliances. For centuries, they were divided... until now. A single Khan has united them, and their hordes eye the Empire’s borders like wolves circling a wounded stag. The Hyrkanians respect strength in any form, martial, character, even sorcerous. But they despise hesitation. Show weakness, and they will ride over your corpse. Show power, and they may just join you.