An Empire on the edge of collapse, a splatter of riders off to war.

"A year shall come of Rossiya’s blackest dread;
Then will the crown fall from the royal head,
The throne of tsars will perish in the mud;
The food of many will be death and blood.

Tatiana the Great will fall from grace;
Her spawn branded with ill and disgrace,
The era of sorcery will end in fire;
Raise the Cross and the funeral pyre."

~ A prophecy, Mikhail Lermontov (1830 A.L.), adapted by Misericordemika

8 tracks