CRIME, JUDGEMENT AND RIGHTEOUSNESS IN THE CITY OF SPIRE

In Spire, the greatest city on the continent, a mile-high shard of pitted obsidian and black magic, revolution is brewing.

A thousand gods bicker and war for control of the countless congregations within Spire's crumbling walls. The aelfir rule from their frozen palaces and perform festival after festival in honour of their solar masters; the drow, long-subjugated, stitch together scraps of scripture to form sawn-off mystery cults and threadbare churches to illegal goddesses. Gods of arson, burglary and mugging blossom in the undercity, finding more faithful each day.

The crime lords of Red Row flood a city hungry for upheaval with guns, drugs and fighters with nothing to lose but something to prove. The plate-armoured gangster knights of the North Docks fight wars of extortion and leg-breaking from their sacred pubs whilst clinging to a street's worth of territory handed down from their forebears.

The Council - unelected and corrupt to the point of uselessness - oversee it all from their triple-warded chamber in the upper city, sending their agents to smash apart insurrection and maintain control. But they fight a losing battle, and the collateral damage will soon become unsustainable.