Worldbuilding & Lore Document

1735. Queen Elizabeth has ruled Britain with a firm and commanding hand for thirty years. Her son, Prince Henry, has long despaired of her death, longing to finally ascend the throne. The Queen knows her son well: cowardly, treacherous, and yet consumed by a thirst for power.

"The burden of power must not fall upon those who crave it most," she would say.

To maintain her reign, Elizabeth employs every means to preserve her health, hoping for one thing—to live until one of her promising grandsons comes of age. Fortunately for her, Henry's children have not taken after their father.

Henry flounders, seeking a way to secure his claim to the throne. He dares not kill his mother — he fears her too deeply. His health deteriorates, and he realizes he may not outlive his mother, let alone his own children. The idea of immortality takes root in his mind. Seeking forbidden knowledge, he petitions to join the Ancient Masonic Lodge. The masters refuse — Henry is known as a man without honor, intellect, or dignity. But one senior master was seduced by a bribe, granting Henry access to magical secrets.

Than, in one of the cities, bread riots erupt—sparked by a sharp rise in grain prices and unbearable working conditions. Men, the elderly, and even children take to the streets. One of the royal grain warehouses is seized by the crowd.

To impress his mother and demonstrate his "readiness to rule," Henry dispatches soldiers. They open fire on unarmed civilians, slaughtering the rioters and "liberating" the warehouse.

Henry proudly reports that he has killed three birds with one stone—quelling the uprising, reclaiming a strategic asset, and "training" soldiers who, he claims, had grown bored during the 26 years of peace in which Britain had not engaged in major conflicts. He jokes, "Better to rehearse on real people than on mannequins."

The Queen is horrified. This confirms her darkest fears: she has raised a monster unfit for the throne. She orders the preparation of documents and convenes Parliament to strip Henry of his right to succession.

The scoundrel realizes time is against him. Henry decides to sacrifice his youngest daughter, Henrietta. At seventeen, she is, on one hand, the most distant claimant to the throne, but on the other—she possesses rare vitality, curiosity, and robust health. Moreover, she is the Queen's favorite. For Henry, this is a combo.

Under the pretense of initiating her into the Masons, he brings her to his crypt and kills her, conducting a dark ritual over her body. Her blood flows into his veins along with her life force. He hides her body in a coffin originally intended for himself. It is never found.

Upon learning of her beloved granddaughter's disappearance, the Queen immediately knows who is responsible. She orders Henry's arrest—but her heart gives out. She dies at that very moment. The order is never executed. Henry ascends the throne.

The Queen was right. Once in power, Henry employs magic, bribery, and force to solidify his absolute rule. Within a few years, the Bill of Rights is repealed. Britain veers away from constitutional monarchy, becoming an absolutist kingdom with Henry as its sole ruler. The Masonic Lodge he joined soon fractures. Some masters swear allegiance to Henry; others attempt to organize resistance—but they are nearly all destroyed in an uneven struggle.

A hundred years pass. Henry remains on the throne. His body is youthful — he has not only grown accustomed to power but has also achieved eternal life. Nearly all his children have been sacrificed to fill his veins with their youthful blood. But mentally, Henry remains a man of the early 18th century. He cannot comprehend the changes occurring in the world. The ideas of the Enlightenment — freedom of thought, belief in progress, education, human rights—are meaningless to him.

The Declaration of Independence of the United States is never signed. Instead of the historic July 4, 1776, a punitive magical operation occurs — personally sanctioned by King Henry. Delegates of the Thirteen Colonies, gathered in Philadelphia to draft the document, are placed under surveillance by the King's black masons, disguised as diplomats. At dawn, a ritual of will-erasure is activated: waves of magical pressure descend upon the city, causing blindness, hallucinations, and incoherent babbling among its inhabitants. Later, the royal chancellor publishes an official bulletin stating that a "republican fever" outbreak occurred in Philadelphia and that "the Crown successfully conducted a sanitary purge of the rebellion's epicenter."

Science progresses, but without philosophy. Industrialization advances, but without soul. In a place that could have been called Victorian England, railways, telegraphs, and electricity emerge. But none of this serves to improve people's lives — it all strengthens the monarch's power. London is filled with spies and royal guards hunting dissenters. Steam-powered guillotines operate in the city's squares — symbols of his regime.

London expands. Factories and bridges are built, forests are cut down. During the construction of the first locomotive depot, an old cemetery is leveled. Two paupers, hoping to find something valuable, enter the ancient catacombs. Their greed leads them to break the magical seal of a tomb where Henrietta's body rests. They pull a silver dagger from her chest, intending to pawn it.

The ritual's seal breaks, and Henrietta awakens. But she does not return as a human, but as a dark entity craving blood. Black magic courses through her veins. Yet, she does not feel whole. Her soul is a restless spirit that will find peace only when her body is filled with her own blood—the blood now flowing in her father's veins.

Driven by vengeance, Henrietta traverses the grim London, destroying soldiers, magical beasts, and creatures her father created to protect his immortality.

As long as her body remains an empty vessel, she can absorb the blood of other beings and use it in combat or to leap through obstacles. However, she has weaknesses: the less borrowed blood she carries, the slower and more fragile she becomes. And since she is a dark creature sustained by stolen life, the blood inside her does not behave like normal — it begins to coagulate in sunlight. Each sunrise brings a countdown. She must find shelter in darkness, or be consumed by the day.

During daylight, she rests within the chambers of her mind, submerged in pulses of memory-rich blood. This blood not only fuels her strength in battle, it slowly restores her identity — returning fragments of her past as audimories, memories made of sound. And with each level she clears, she reclaims a piece of her soul—slowly transforming from a mindless, bloodthirsty strzyga into the White Dame, an avenging force guided by pain, fury, and justice.

In Old not-so-good England a few factions have managed to survive. The White Masons still operate — acting as mages, spies, and sometimes even as agents of foreign powers. Other monarchs, and occasionally newly formed parliaments abroad, have come to realize that Britain is not only stuck in the previous century — it’s reaching its tendrils toward other nations.

Not all colonists were brainwashed. Some survived — and they thirst for revenge, plotting how to carry out an assassination of the king. But no one trusts anyone. Friendly fire is common.

Ordinary people — those forced to live in the shadows of the regime — are far from passive. They build hidden caches and secret passages beneath old houses and graveyards. They leave behind proclamations, paint graffiti on the walls of factories and barracks — biting, venomous, burning with hatred for the monarchy. Sometimes, they blow up factories, bridges, and supply depots — acting as saboteurs.