Wilde Blue

Something stirs beneath the Depths. Echoes of an ancient conflict, whose scars are the foundations of the modern world, still reverberate through the bones of that toxic sky. The worlds floating above have not yet noticed, but all have felt its traces. The industrialized sorcery of the modern world has every island in its vice-like grip, but still none have tamed the wild sky in between.   In the grand city of Ilysium, the Emperor's strength is waning. The Crown Princess has been able to keep the noble houses in line, for now. The Imperial Navy still follows her directions. Enforcers in the distant colonies arrest abolitionists and anarchists alike. But there are plenty of whispers. And in that shining city, rumor often spends better than silver.   In the sprawling city of Sayles, corruption seeps down into the very bedrock. The coalition that won independence for the free worlds in the Great War has long since shattered. In its place is a pseudo-republic that already rots from within. Lofty speeches of freedom, prosperity and community have been replaced by blackmail and corporate espionage in the pursuit of the almighty profit.   In the towering spires of the Sorcerous Academy, nothing is allowed to impede their study. Not laws, not funds, not morals. They claim, outwardly, to have changed. No longer, they say, are they the ones who built the warships, cannons, and bombs of the Great War. No longer are they the dealers of death and destruction. But, in the laboratories only the devout will ever see, they are experimenting with far worse.   Hairline cracks are spreading throughout the Wilde Blue. The sky has been stretched too thin. And there are great and terrible things that lurk just beneath the surface. Wild magics and long-dead gods. Those that have been forgotten. Those that are not content to remain so. The world is so ripe for their return. All it needs is a single spark.