Mist Campaign

It’s not the end of the world. That happened two centuries ago. 

Your world before then was said to be lush, an Eden, a paradise. 

In those days, they say the Mist ate the land, swallowed the ground, until only the spires remained. Many tales speak of that end. Yours was a great civilization, one that had tamed the world. 

Who knows if any of it is true or utter nonsense.

That’s not your world, never has been.

Your world is oceans of Mist. That white, hazy blanket that shrouds the land is a death sentence to anyone stranded upon the surface. 

Sometimes rescues are mounted. 

Sometimes they succeed. 

But your kind cannot live there, and venture only when need is most dire.

They say that airships are the lifeblood of your people, and that is true. 

They allow trade among the colonies. 

War, too. 

If the Mist slew most of your ancestors as they say, then it seems the survivors are trying to finish the job.

Abandoned spires, dead colonies, devastation and destruction for generations has meant few colonies survive today. 

The airships played their part in this, too.

Yours serves one purpose before all others.

Survival.