A figure in green stands atop a pipe, high above a deep crevasse.

What is his story? Why is he here?

Well, dear reader, sit back and I will tell you everything I know.

These settlements were built around deep flowing springs, so the buildings grew higher and higher over the years. With the large, bare wastelands stretching for miles between settlements, lighter-than-air-crafts became the common mode of transportation.

Over the years, factions formed and grew corrupt. They would enact cruel taxes on the settlements in exchange for “safety”, but no-one was ever really safe. Now enters our hero. Like a post apocalyptic Robin Hood he would travel from town to town, braving the wastelands between. He fought to protect the villagers, slipping into the shadows without so much as a hint of where he had gone.

But it looks like our hero’s luck has run thin. He has been cornered, with a nasty fall below him and the likelihood of escape growing slimmer by the second. His only option is to stand and fight. With his trusty jade sword in his hand he stands, daring anyone brave enough to come out and face him!