Many years ago, the world sat poised on the verge of disaster. Across the lands, the fell forces marched at the will of their wispy overlords. The oppressive and violent wisps imprisoned the world, for their own nefarious purposes.
As was foretold, four brave warriors stood apart, broke their bonds, and started a revolution that shattered the wisp empire. The seed of this victory was planted with the capture of an ancient relic, during their escape. A powerful and wise sentient sword, created by the ancients, in the primordial history of the world.
The four mystics, as they became known resurrected ancient magic, with the aid of their mighty sword and crafted the labyrinths of capture. The labyrinths are pan-dimensional conjurations, zones of energy designed to snare and entrap supernatural horrors.
Following the defeat of the wisps, large metropoli sprung up on these sites, protected from supernatural attack. What happened to the creatures once they were caught? Nobody could answer that question.
Although the wisps could not escape from these prisons, their abominable magic permeated the world, creating isolated grottos of negative energy. Mortal followers were drawn to these sites, and through raw power the wisps were able to communicate with them. The wisps new they had to be decisive, if they failed in their bid to escape, they risked further confinement, and the elimination of their grottos.
In the city of Torus, the wisps’ plan reached fruition. Torus’ labyrinth stored the most powerful wisps, ancient fey beings of nearly limitless power. With their followers help, they overturned the ritual cornerstones of their prison, substituting them with black obsidian. By sheer will, and force of power, they perverted their labyrinth, turning it from prison to stronghold. Overnight, the citizens of Torus were turned from free men, to slaves. Those who opposed the wisps, where driven away or slain. None left to resist them. The ivory towers of the mage guilds were turned to salt, the markets left deserted, and the warrior’s halls torched.
The arcane echo of the desecration echoed around the continent. While no other labyrinth fell, their powers of containment were strained and weakened. Some spewed forth hordes of monsters, others raised corpses from their graves, and some simply caused crops to fail.
In the far north, comets appeared unheralded, and unexpected in the skies, their trajectories absurd and paradoxical. With a whipcrack that reverberated the world, they struck the ground leaving molten farrows. When they were eventually found, each site struck was found to be devoid of any stellar objects. Bizarrely, tracks lead away from each comet, scorched into the stone and earth, leading to the north. The rangers consulted each other, and sent messengers to the city each ‘comet walker’ was heading, the frozen metropolis of Lucith.