WTF IS WARNER EMPIRE?

Short answer: a real company. Warner Empire, LC, Salt Lake City, Utah. We sell shirts. We make music. We have a goat problem.

I'm Guy Warner. By day I rent out plastic moving totes through Eco Moving Utah. By night I run an empire. The empire is real. It has an LLC, a merch store, a record label called Totally Not A Label, a video game, a comic, and a standing ban on a goat. The satire is not a coating on the company. The satire is the company, and the company is dead serious. Both. At the same time. Allegedly.

I spent ten years building an empire for somebody else, CTO, the whole climb. In April 2026 they laid me off. So I did the reasonable thing: I started stacking totes in a warehouse and building an empire of my own, out of spite, plastic, and songs. Everything you see here got built after that. The music is about it. The shirts pay for it. The raven watched all of it happen and has notes.

This is the whole mythology, and it is not complicated.

The raven is the messenger who delivered. When everything fell apart, the raven stayed on the standard, held his post, and remembers everything. The raven is memory. The raven is loyalty. The raven never left.

The goat is the other messenger. The goat stopped at the trough, ate, lied to every brother he met, and never delivered the message at all. The goat is chaos. The goat is the designated scapegoat, and he has earned the title several times over.

Follow the raven. The goat is lying to you.

The goat has been formally banned. The ban changes nothing. He is still here. His objections have been noted and ignored.

Two Ravens on the Standard. Viking folk rock about getting laid out by life and rebuilding anyway: brothers who did not show up, daughters I do not see enough, a banner that does not come down. Ten songs out, four still in the vault. There's also Horns of Hatred, a band of goats in their forties playing horrible covers at a dive bar. They are exactly as good as that sounds.

There's a playable game, An Empire of One Raven, where you deliver the message the goat never did. There's a comic about the night it happened. There's a reference map, partially eaten by the goat. There's an oracle. The raven runs the oracle. Ask it anything. It answers like a raven.

Here is the part where it becomes a business, because it is one. Every song, every page, every game in this empire ends at the same place: a shirt. The raven on the back of nearly every one was drawn by Amanda Foste, and her mark is on this work the way a maker's mark belongs on anything built to last. Buy a shirt and you are funding the next song, the next chapter, the next terrible goat cover. That is the whole model. No investors. No pitch deck. Shirts.

It is a man who lost one empire deciding to build his own, smaller, stranger, and entirely his. It is a real company drowning in its own story on purpose. It is just a little bit evil. Allegedly.

Follow the raven.

Short on time? The whole empire on one page: The One Pager →