Ah, Britannica! Land of smoke and iron and patriotism! Despite the recent plague, the Great City still covers the land, and the eternal fires of her million smoking chimneys still shield the country's secretive monarch from the prying eyes of her many enemies.
Which region do you hail from?
The underground sanctum of Britannica's political elite. Built in the Bureaucratic coils of an eternally twisting labyrinth to protect the governing body from the constant threat of spies and war. Here, you and your colleagues in the Ministry toil to keep Britannica running - and try to keep The Missus happy.
Which party do you owe allegiance to?
The best of the best! The political elite! You don't have to bow to anyone- apart from The Missus, of course. Your party has almost total control over Britannica. At your order, men will kill or die in an instant - as long as the correct paperwork is filed and approved in double triplicate, of course.
Which egg-sack were you hatched in?