Let the Players Suffer, and I'll Take the Credit

Year 652 of the New Era.

Smoke billows, machines roar, and gangs rise up everywhere. The wheels of the industrial age are rolling forward.

The benevolent Sheriff Edmund Donaldson cannot bear to see the people under his care suffer, and sighs:

“Let’s put the players through one more year. Once the gangs are wiped out, peace will return to the East District...”

The Emperor of Farsman unleashes a war that engulfs the continent. Nations in every direction submit to his cannons, and even the kingdom across the strait cannot escape its fate.

The valiant General Edmund Donaldson sighs:

“Let’s put the players through two more years, until this grave threat is eliminated...”

Famine, enslavement, development, darkness and light follow one after another.

The wise Prime Minister Edmund Donaldson sighs:

“Let’s put the players through three more years...”

“...Four more years...”

Years later, Edmund Donaldson, Protector of the Realm, Conqueror, recipient of the Tarker Medal and the Asker Cross, and honorary president of the Royal Society, cries out in anguish: “You’ve really made my life miserable!”