Whose game was empire, whose stakes were thrones; Whose table Earth, whose dice were human bones.

It is written, though none living knows the truth, that in ages past, the Empire of the Magicians stretched across the very world. Mighty were the magicians, their powers beyond mortal imagination. But, so it is said, the magicians reached too far, and dared challenge even the Lords of Heaven. Then did the gods grow angry and turn their wrath against the magicians. Fire rained down from the heavens; the mighty empire was reduced to ruin. All that remains of that vast realm is the City of Ten Thousand Magicians, whose power is but a pale shadow of what once was.

Other realms took the place of the lost empire: mighty Tesla, greatest of those rising from the ashes; the Galilean Theocracy, claiming to preserve the old wisdom; the Heisenberg Alliance, declaring that no man may truly know the will of the gods; the Federated States of Quanta, tearing themselves from the grip of the Alliance; and the Hawking Nomads, wandering the vast plains. Every ten years they gather, all of them, in the City of Ten Thousand Magicians, for the Games.

But Something Strange Is Going On . . .

Are these the Thousand Year Games, when in ages past it was prophesied that the Empire of the Magicians would be reborn? Could this be why Tesla suddenly attacked the City? How did the Emir of Fire create those mighty magics, devastating the City's defenses? What of the crisis at the very top of the Galilean Church, and the rumor that the Holy Books are missing? Why have the seagoing Quantans broken their long absence and come to the Games? Who assassinated the chief advisors to the Doubtful, ruler of Heisenberg? What mean the prophets who declare that the struggles of men echo in the very heavens? More Hawkings than ever are converging on the City, but they are even more reticent than usual. And they are not the only strangers who have come to the City, for this year, the prophets claim that the Great Game shall be won: the Great Game, where an empire may be won... or everything lost