The floating isles are all the home you have ever known. It is peaceful in the sky-bound cities and life is comfortable. Or at least it was until about five years ago. That was when the rot started to form, strange cracks, like sores, bubbled up on the fringes of the outer islands, slowly eating through the stone. And then they fell. One by one, the smaller floating islands began to crumble apart and topple to the ground.

But the rot only continued to spread, eventually taking hold on Alstor, one of the six great isles and home to the greatest scientific minds the skies had to offer. They tried to stop it, tried to investigate its cause, but anything and anyone that touched the rot soon fell ill. Eventually the island began to crumble, and all of its citizens were evacuated, scattered into the remaining five great floating islands.

Since then, great strides have been made to discover the origin of the rot, and eventually it was learned that the rot was rising from far below. There, a barren wasteland called the Lower World also cracked and bled with rot, its scorched land torn apart by polluted rivers, as if by the claws of some great beast had dug deep into the world. Many were sent to investigate this long forgotten world, and very few have survived.

Desperate and on the brink of destruction, the five great isles resorted to a raffle of sorts. Any who willingly enters their name into the raffle receives monetary compensation, but those lucky, or unlucky, few whose names are chosen will be sent to the Lower World in hopes of finding a cure.

This is where your story begins.

Why you entered your name, only you know. But all that matters is that now your name has been drawn, and now you are headed to the Lower world.