The World is Ending. But Bureaucracy is Eternal.
The kingdom is absolute toast. The sky is a bruised shade of purple, the crops are burning, and the social fabric of the realm hasn’t just unraveled—it has been thoroughly shredded, set on fire, and blasted into orbit. It is a total, unfiltered, multi-faction free-for-all out there. To your left, brutal Orc warbands are raiding what is left of the villages. To your right, the Undead are casually clawing their way out of their graves because hell is officially full. Deep in the woods, ancient Eldritch monsters are stalking the shadows. And just to put a nice, chaotic cherry on top of this apocalyptic sundae: Aliens have just arrived in glowing flying saucers, abducting cows and shooting neon green lasers at everything that moves.
And then there is you. Grunt.
