My history is up for grabs. I have set up trade alliances, and entered into truces. Or I just let my Babylonian Bowmen rain terror down on my enemies� heads. I have led a team of specialists into an abyss of vast caverns, snake-like passageways and luring dead-ends. I have commanded squads with precision and power using a GPS, night-vision, battlefield computers, and modular body armor. My unique magic system allowed me to change the spells and creatures I brought into battle each time. I stayed frosty as the world exploded around me and my mission goals changed on the fly. I have customized my squad into specialized experts in snipercraft, demolitions, and stealth. I have always tread lightly, the depths belong to twisted cults, mutants, and hideous creatures that were never meant to exist. I caught all the rip-roaring action from film-quality multiple camera angles: cockpit, chase close, chase far, dash, television camera, sides, front, ground, sliding, and even skycam views. I plowed through snow packed roads, busted out from a wall of fog and was blinded by oncoming rain. All while piloting the most badass Mechs' ever.