The Poor

While Society is the most visible part of The Empire of Albion, it represents only a tiny sliver of the population. Beyond the glittering ballrooms, opulent clubs, and manicured gardens live the poor - the mass of unwashed, uneducated, and unloved souls who make up the true bulk of the Empire. They are the ones whom Society alternately pities, despises, and ignores. They work in the fields and factories - or more often, can find no honest work at all. The wealthy visit their neighborhoods to indulge in dark pursuits or to elevate themselves through acts of charity, before returning to their drawing rooms to declare what animals the lower classes are.

Meanwhile, the so-called advances of the age are stripping the poor of work, dignity, and what little they once possessed. As the Empire grows ever wealthier and more powerful, the lower classes cling to life - starving, desperate, and increasingly angry.

The Rise of Constructs

Over the past several decades, constructs have become an increasingly common presence throughout The Empire of Albion. They were first used to replace beasts of burden - no living horses pull the cabs of Lundeinjon anymore, only artificial aether-steeds made of wood and wind. In time, they filled the ranks of The Army of Albion, replacing the common soldier with creatures of brass, fire, and unwavering obedience. And now they have infiltrated the factories and fields as well, displacing human labor in favor of tireless compliance.

Each new construct brought into the workforce puts a handful of workers out onto the street. These artificial laborers are not clever - they require constant supervision and can perform only rote tasks, for now. But they do not tire, and they do not complain, and they have no homes, no families, and no desires. Some of the displaced have found work the constructs cannot yet do, only to see a more advanced creation step in a year or a decade later. Others have turned to crime to feed themselves and their families - mostly robbing from those just as impoverished, who the police do not protect and the law does not acknowledge.

For those with no other alternatives, the Empire provides workhouses - dismal places designed to be so miserable and degrading as to be the last resort of the most desperate and dying. For those who cannot accept the workhouse, the prisons, gallows, and madhouses await.

As constructs have taken more and more jobs, the laborers of the cities have banded together, forming a movement popularly known as "The Wreckers". Originally organized to demand fair treatment and honest work, many among the Wreckers have grown tired of the indifference and hostility of the propertied class and have turned to violence to make their point. They break into factories that use constructs and smash the artificial workers, unleashing the elementals that animate them to wreak havoc before they dissipate.

While some Wrecker leaders are working to stem the violence, those who carry out the attacks are treated as heroes by many of the impoverished, and believe they are advancing their cause in the only way left to them. Meanwhile, criminal gangs practice extortion under the guise of Wrecker activity, even as the newspapers portray the movement as the greatest villain of the age.

Muttering in the Dark

While the ranks of the poor swell with those displaced by constructs, and the members of Society are blinded by their own brilliance - unable or unwilling to see what festers in the shadows - there are those who see in the darkness an opportunity to rise. Revolutionaries whisper of better worlds, forged in fire and blood, while servants of dark gods from Beyond recruit among those who feel betrayed by the Empire and by God.

These movements remain hidden, their voices low and layered in secrecy. Only a few of the most astute can hear the muttering in the dark - the quiet plans for a new world. Perhaps a better one.

Perhaps not.