They say the world was created when the gods defeating the giant, Gmurthon. Upon his back the world was formed, his bones the rocks, his blood the seas, his bum the underworld. Some say he will break his bonds and rise again one day to bestride the stars and do battle with the gods once more. But not now.
Now we move down, closer and closer to the twin mountain ranges of Gwinbor and Harumno. Here we find the towering Gates of Hal, closed and locked to prevent those that have been exiled to Underworld from escaping – those unlucky enough to have fallen foul of the Emperor and cast down into the pit to forever fight the darkness that rises from the depths.
Down further, beyond the gates, underground, the light grows dark, but not complete. As the eyes grow accustomed, small lights appear. Small fires, glowing flies, shining moss and illuminating fungus. The darkness is just a backdrop to a rich, colourful scene like a strange painting far below the eyes of those that live Above.