The World Above
Creation was beautiful once. But the Exile changed it all. Now, the land is covered in madness. Dangerous beasts roam the forests of the East, only to be preyed upon by carnivorous plants or killed by toxic spores. The Northern tundra becomes a scene of carnage every year, as various beasts use the short summer months to fatten up and prepare provisions for the seemingly endless winters. Behemoths of mind-blowing size mindlessly destroy all they come across, and legends even tell of sentient beings that can command the land itself and all that inhabit it, warlords who revel in Chaos and Madness. Many never speak of it, but those who must call it : the Wyld.
Though this was a punishement meant to wipe out Mortals, some where saved through divine mercy. The islands of the Western Ocean were plucked from the sea and fixed in the sky, their motion fixed by Threaded Paths of Fate, and the most pious of Mortal were set upon these Roaming Isle in order to save them. Seven clusters of Mortal lives, floating in the palms of capricious divinities. Lands of Exile… but home all the same.