For centuries, the bottom of the Abyss
has been shrouded in mystery, fear, and superstition. Some say it’s a hostile place inhabited by the strangest of creatures known to man. Others believe it to be a gateway, a portal into a realm much darker than mankind’s nightmares. The only truth, as far as humanity’s great empires were concerned, was that the Abyss served as the ideal prison for all manner of scum and villainy. For centuries the Abyss has welcomed those deemed sinful into its dark warmth, and for centuries the Abyss has stood firm beneath the world of Altfare.
Centuries-worth of stability and imprisonment were undone in a single night, when the world above shook, and the great Catastrophe engulfed the land. Those few and brave human guardians poached around the outskirts of the Abyss’ prisons had long since fled; or they were dead. There are those, many, who would seek out the chance of escape. And so, the Catastrophe served as their salvation. Prisons were torn asunder, cages were blown apart, and inmates turned tail, turned against each other, or turned towards the surface.
The price of freedom was steep after all, and vengeance against their human prosecutors was rampant, infectious like a drug. Even as long hours passed into forever-for no one truly knew the passage of time in the Abyss-the chaos of prison riots and breakouts still swept up many. Some of the violence was dying down, the murky depths and underground caverns slowly being stilled by silence. But not many had the gall or common sense to unite when each felt entitled to their own revenge and bloodlust.
Even now, the Abyss hosted conflicting parties with a host of stragglers picking at what they could. With none of their human oppressors to govern them, no law was in place to follow. A true no man’s land was what the Abyss had become, though rumor of certain sects of prison guards passed wind to the inmates. For some reason or another, a large grouping of werewolves sought to keep back the would-be prisoners, slaughtering any who dared to try and reach the surface. To what ends they work from, nobody knows, be it loyalty to humans or something more.
No one truly knew what the Catastrophe was, recent as it happened. Humanity may have just been doomed to extinction right above them. The only way of ever finding out was to escape to the surface and see for themselves. For those who seriously considered the task, the sect of werewolf prison guards was the first obstacle to overcome. Thus forth began the fated, perhaps even unholy, meeting of different sources, each coming to the largest prison’s “lagoon”
. Murk, rock, and depth encompassed the poor excuse of a pool, but word has passed there were scattered weapons and other supplies to ransack from the night’s outbreak.